If you’ve been following along, you know we’ve been exploring a different way to relate to movement—one rooted in attunement, care, and embodiment, rather than rules, pressure, and punishment.
In Part 1, we began with language—shifting from the word “exercise” to “movement” to expand what counts and free ourselves from all-or-nothing thinking. In Part 2, we explored what it means to tune into your body’s rhythms and internal cues—how inner attunement can help us make sustainable, supportive choices.
Now, we arrive at a foundational, yet often overlooked piece: joy.
Let’s reclaim what pleasure and play have to do with movement—not as indulgences, but as deeply necessary aspects of a relationship with your body that’s built to last.
Movement Was Meant to Be Enjoyed
Watch any child at recess, or recall the feeling of dancing with friends at a wedding —movement, in its original state, is expressive. It’s joyful. It’s connected. It’s how we explore, release, celebrate, and feel.
Somewhere along the way, we were taught to treat movement like a chore: something to endure, track, optimize, or use to earn food (ugh, I see you Diet Culture). Our culture has trained us to associate moving our bodies with “work”—often in service of shrinking them or gaining control.
The unfortunate result? Many people have lost touch with how good movement can actually feel.
Reclaiming joyful movement begins with a radical shift in values: pleasure is not a luxury—it’s a powerful signal that supports the development and maintenance of the habit!
Why Joy Matters for Your Health
Yes—joyful movement supports your mental and physical health, and there’s research to prove it. But beyond outcomes, let’s talk about sustainability.
When you move in ways that feel good:
You’re more likely to keep moving (Cox et al., 2019)
You build positive associations with movement—not dread (Williams et al., 2008)
You reduce the risk of compulsive or disordered patterns (Staples et al., 2022)
You become more attuned to your internal motivation, not external expectations (Fortier et al., 2012)
The bottom line?
Being kinder toward your body and valuing what your bodies can do makes you more likely to move consistently—because you want to, not because you feel you have to (Cox et al., 2019). And actually enjoying the process? Will make it far more likely that you’ll sustain the movement practices you have! (Williams et al., 2008). Joy is not just the short term reward—it’s the foundation for sustained practice!
But what if I don’t find movement fun (or even safe)?
This is one of the most common concerns I hear in my practice. And it makes so much sense.
If you’ve spent years (or decades…or nearly a lifetime) forcing yourself to exercise in ways you don’t enjoy or downright dread, it’s hard to imagine that movement could ever feel safe, let alone playful. It may take time to rediscover what movement feels like when it's for you, not done to you.
Yeah, let that sink in. We’re shifting from movement that may be punitive or at the very least transactional to movement that is fulfilling and pleasurable.
A few gentle reminders as you explore this shift:
You don’t have to love every second.
You don’t have to break a sweat to make it count (refer back to Part 1)
You can begin by finding moments of lightness, curiosity, or peace—not fireworks.
In fact, researchers have studied the affective impact of pleasure and displeasure as a psychological variable linked to exercise motivation and long-term behavior change. They found that allowing individuals to adjust intensity for comfort and pleasure (rather than pushing through) led to more positive feelings during exercise, which significantly improved long-term exercise adherence (Ekkekakis et al., 2011). In other words, in a (not so) shocking twist, when people feel safe to adjust their intensity to suit them and their bodies, their enjoyment of movement increases—and so does their likelihood of sticking with it (which is where the real physical and mental health benefits start to add up)!
Even if you’ve embraced this reframe and found ways to integrate more positive feelings during exercise by working towards greater autonomy and emotional safety, sometimes “joyful” movement can still feel tricky. For many, this is related to their complex relationship with their body (which is why I want to address it directly).
A word (or several) on pleasure and body image
If finding joy in movement feels inaccessible because of the way you feel about your body, you are not alone.
Joy and body image are intimately linked. And in a culture that constantly feeds us narrow, unrealistic appearance ideals, it can be hard to move with ease in a body you've been taught to constantly and chronically scrutinize and control.
This is why I often invite people to shift their focus from how their body looks to how it feels and functions. This subtle but powerful reframing—toward body functionality—can ease the inner critic and invite in a sense of agency.
Recent research backs this up. A 2023 systematic review and meta-analysis published in the journal Body Image found that individuals who appreciate their bodies for what they can do (rather than how they appear) report significantly higher levels of body appreciation and well-being—and lower levels of disordered eating, body shame, and appearance fixation (McLaughlin et al., 2023). This body functionality appreciation is strongly correlated with more positive engagement in movement, especially when the motivation is intrinsic rather than appearance-based.
Another study by Cox et al. (2019) found that self-compassion and body appreciation were positively associated with intrinsic motivation for physical activity—meaning, when we treat our bodies with kindness and respect, we’re more likely to move because it feels good, not because we feel pressured to change our appearance.
Put simply: when we shift the narrative from “how do I look?” to “what do I need?” and “what do I enjoy?”, movement becomes not something we endure to fix our bodies—but something we engage in to care for them.
Movement can be a way home to your body—not an escape from it.
And you might be thinking, this sounds great and makes sense, but what can I do about it…read on friend.
Action Step: Create a “Movement Safety Plan”
If past experiences with fitness culture, weight stigma, or performance-based movement have made exercise feel unsafe or dysregulating, this practice helps you reestablish a sense of emotional safety, autonomy, and agency in your movement choices.
Before choosing a movement practice, ask yourself:
Do I feel emotionally safe doing this?
Am I choosing this from a place of self-care, not self-control?
Is this movement aligned with how I want to feel—physically and emotionally?
If the answer is no, press pause or revise the plan. Give yourself permission to walk away or modify the activity entirely.
Why this matters:
Research shows that autonomous motivation—choosing activities based on internal desires rather than external pressure—leads to better psychological outcomes, greater body appreciation, and more sustainable physical activity (Fortier et al., 2012; Cox et al., 2019). When you feel safe and empowered in your choices, joy becomes possible.
General practices for reclaiming joyful movement
Here are a few invitations to explore what joyful movement might look like for you:
1. Revisit childhood joy
What activities did you love as a child? Skating? Climbing trees? Rollerblading? Riding your bike for hours? Return to one and notice how it feels now.
2. Make it sensory
Turn on music that makes you want to move. Wear clothes that feel good on your body. Go outside and let nature move you—literally. Joy often lives in the senses.
3. Try something playful (and low stakes)
Take a beginner’s dance class. Join a casual pickleball game. Walk somewhere new. Let yourself be bad at something on purpose.
4. Ditch the metrics
Unplug from tracking apps, calorie counters, and performance goals for a bit. Try moving without measuring. Ask yourself afterward: “Did that feel good?”
5. Redefine success
Instead of “I worked out today,” try:
I felt more grounded in my body.
I laughed while I moved.
I listened to what I needed—and responded.
Reflection for the Week
Before moving next time, try asking yourself:
“What’s the most pleasurable way I could move today?”
“What would feel freeing, silly, energizing, or soulful?”
Let those questions be your compass.
Coming Next
In Part 4, we’ll explore how joyful movement deepens when it’s connected to relationship and community—because embodiment isn’t a solo journey.
Until then, may you move not for the mirror, but for the moment. And may joy be your permission slip.
Onward in thriving,
Gillian
PS. In the comments share a glimmer of JOY from your movement practice (current or past). Let’s crowdsource some ideas to get the creative juices and play moving!