Gloves On

Punching Through the Pain

Today, I did something different.

I signed up at an academy.
Not for therapy. Not for recovery appointments. Not for another surgery.|
For boxing and kickboxing.

After everything my body has been through — the surgeries, the hospitalisation, the vision loss, the forced slowing down — choosing to step into a space built around strength felt almost rebellious, but I’ve come to believe something deeply:

You don’t think your way through pain.
You move through it.

The Emotions I Couldn’t Talk Away

There’s been a lot I haven’t fully processed.

The heartbreak over my setback.
The anger about my illness.
The grief of losing my eyesight.
The trauma of hospital rooms and medical uncertainty.

Some emotions came out as tears.
Others didn’t.

Some turned into silence.
Others turned into frustration sitting quietly under the surface...

Especially anger.

Not rage at anyone — just this deep, internal heat.
The kind that builds when life changes without your permission.

This is where I realised something uncomfortable:

I had suppressed more than I admitted.

Why Boxing?

Because sometimes healing isn’t soft.

Sometimes it’s sweat.
Sometimes it’s impact.
Sometimes it’s hitting something instead of holding everything in.

Walking into my first class today, I felt nervous. A little self-conscious. Still physically rebuilding. Still mentally tender.

However, the moment I wrapped my hands, something shifted.

The velcro tightened around my wrists. The leather felt stiff and unfamiliar. The sharp smell of the gym — sweat and rubber mats — filled the air. When my gloves hit the bag for the first time, the sound echoed through the room, louder than I expected. For the first time in months, my body didn’t feel like something being examined. It felt like something being prepared.

There’s something powerful about choosing to strike instead of shrink.

Each punch felt like releasing something I didn’t have words for.

Each round felt like telling my body:

We’re not fragile.
We’re fighting.

Working Through Every Emotion — Physically

I truly believe the only way to get to the other side of something is to move through it.

Not avoid it.
Not numb it.
Not intellectualise it...

Move through it.

For me, that looks like boxing 2–4 times a week.

They offer MMA and Jiu-Jitsu too. Maybe one day I’ll step into those, but for now, this is enough, because this isn’t about becoming a fighter in a ring.
It’s about becoming stronger in my own life.

Anger Can Be Alchemy

We’re often taught that anger is something to suppress, but anger is energy.

Unprocessed, it turns inward.
Expressed intentionally, it transforms.

Today, I didn’t cry... I punched!
Somehow, that felt just as healing.

Healing Doesn’t Always Look Gentle

After months of medical appointments and navigating vision loss, I could have chosen to stay small. Careful. Protective.

Instead, I chose gloves.

I chose sweat. I chose impact and I chose to trust that my body — even after everything — is still capable of strength.

Maybe this academy won’t just build muscle.
Maybe it will rebuild parts of me that felt shaken.

If You’re Holding Something In

Ask yourself:

Where is it sitting in your body?
What movement would help release it?
What would it look like to work through it instead of just think about it?

Healing isn’t always journaling and quiet reflection.

Sometimes it’s loud.
Sometimes it’s physical.
Sometimes it’s a right hook.

Today was my first class and for the first time in a while, I didn’t feel like something fragile that needed protecting.
I felt powerful and that feels like progress.

With you on the journey,
– Storm Reagan
Life Coach | Lived Experience Guide