THE CLIENT WHO “LOOKED FINE” — AND WHAT SHE TAUGHT ME ABOUT INVISIBLE DISABILITIES

Category: Motivation / Trainer Tips / Workouts

A few summers ago, a new client came into the gym for a drop-in small group session. She hadn’t booked a full intake — just signed the usual short form for drop-ins. Nothing flagged. She checked “no” to health concerns, didn’t list any medications, and gave the impression she was good to go.

She moved well. Followed along quietly. Smiled when I gave her a cue.

But by the end of the warm-up, I noticed she looked pale. A little shaky. Hands trembling slightly.
When I checked in, she gave a soft laugh and said,
“I probably should’ve mentioned I have POTS. My blood pressure just tanks sometimes. I’ll be fine — just need a minute.”

That moment stuck with me.

Because she “looked fine.”
There was nothing on her form.
And without that quick check-in — or her willingness to speak up — I might’ve assumed she was just out of shape or unmotivated.
How many other coaches have made that same mistake?

Since then, I’ve worked with clients navigating everything from post-concussion symptoms to sensory processing disorders, long COVID, autoimmune flares, and chronic pain conditions.

And what they’ve shared — often quietly, and after a lot of trust-building — is that they’ve been dismissed before.
By coaches.
By instructors.
By people who meant well, but didn’t take the time to ask.
Or worse — assumed they weren’t trying hard enough.

We hear it all the time in fitness culture:

• “No excuses.”
• “Push through the pain.”
• “If you’re not sweating, it’s not working.”

But for someone with an invisible disability, those messages can do real harm.

They don’t just miss the mark — they send the message that anything less than maximum effort isn’t valid. That you have to perform at a certain level to belong. That if your body isn’t capable of what the others are doing, you must not be trying hard enough.

Let’s be real: that’s ableism — and it’s more common than we’d like to admit.

So what do we do instead?

Here’s what I’ve learned:

 1. Redefine what progress looks like

Not every client wants to set a PR.
Not every client wants your training goals — or mine.
For some, progress might look like making it to class for the first time in months.
For others, it might be completing half a workout and having enough energy to get through the rest of the day.

One of the most powerful shifts we can make as coaches is recognizing that a regression in programming might be a huge progression in someone’s journey.

And just because a movement looks easier doesn’t mean it wasn’t hard-won.

This is why education matters — we need to train our eyes, not just our cueing. To recognize effort that isn’t loud. To celebrate milestones that don’t always show up on paper.

 2. Create space for open dialogue — without pressure

Instead of asking:

“Do you have any injuries?”
Try asking:
“Is there anything about your energy, symptoms, or needs that I should know to support you better today?”

This gives clients a low-pressure entry point to share what feels relevant — without needing to explain their entire health history.

And if they don’t want to share? That’s okay. But they’ll remember you offered.

3. Watch for non-verbal cues

Not everyone will disclose — and not every condition has a label.

Watch for:

• Unusual fatigue
• Energy crashes mid-session
• Sudden changes in posture or focus
• Pauses that don’t seem like typical rest

These aren’t laziness or lack of effort. They might be signs of a body doing its best under circumstances we can’t see.

Stay curious, not critical.

4. Check your own assumptions at the door

This is a big one.

It’s so easy to filter our coaching through our own fitness journey.
What we’re currently training for. What motivates us.
But the moment we stop checking those assumptions, we risk coaching through a narrow lens — one that leaves people out.

Clients with invisible disabilities may move differently. Recover differently. Progress differently.

Your role isn’t to judge that — it’s to support it.

That drop-in client? She came back.

She started checking in with me before class, bringing electrolytes, listening to her body, and taking breaks when she needed to.
And she thrived.

Not because we pushed harder.
But because we respected her experience — and adjusted accordingly.

You can’t always see what someone’s carrying.
And you don’t need a diagnosis to be a more inclusive coach.
You just need a willingness to pause, to listen, and to rethink what success looks like in your space.

Want more strategies like this?
Join the newsletter here:  https://www.oceanrehabandfitness.com/newsletter-opt-in — because inclusive fitness isn’t a trend. It’s a standard we all need to meet.

Your Coach,

Megan Williamson