I’ve always hated exercise. Not the movement itself, but everything around it — how it’s sold to us, what it’s supposed to mean. For most of my life, exercise was tangled up with shame and “shoulds.” It was about fixing, burning, earning, or proving. The endless messages about how we should look, move, or measure up had already stripped away any sense of pleasure.

I used to be the kid who managed to get out of PE without a note because I’d brought one so often. I never played sports, never felt good in my body, and certainly never thought movement could feel like joy. My inner voice was full of guilt, what I should be doing, how I should look, and it drowned out any sense of connection to my body itself.

Reading No Sweat by Michelle Segar was the first time I really saw it for what it was. I’d always understood the impact of societal expectations in other parts of my life: how we internalise productivity, perfectionism, and self-comparison but I hadn’t realised how deeply those same expectations had shaped how I felt about moving my body.

What that book did was give me permission to let movement mean something else. It’s not about achievement anymore. It’s about how movement feels — and that has freed me. I’ve moved more consistently since reading it than I have in years, but it’s not out of pressure. It’s out of peace.

That’s where the “Hot Girl Walk” comes in.

If you haven’t heard of it, it began as a light-hearted TikTok trend during lockdown. The idea was simple: go for a walk and think about three things, what you’re grateful for, what you want to achieve, and what makes you feel powerful. Despite the name, it was less about being a “hot girl” and more about walking with intention. It quickly became a kind of gentle rebellion against exercise culture — a way of moving your body for how it feels, not how it looks.

I’ll admit, the phrase still makes me smile. It’s not one I’d naturally use, but I can appreciate what it represents. Beneath the gloss of the name is something quietly radical: permission to move in a way that feels good rather than performative.

For neurodivergent people, especially those with ADHD, this is powerful. Movement can soothe the nervous system, regulate emotion, and clear mental clutter in a way that sitting still often can’t. There’s something about the rhythm of walking that helps thoughts connect and settle. It’s as if moving your body helps your mind move too.

I walk at least an hour a day now, and it’s become more than exercise. It’s where my thinking happens — where ideas untangle and worries find their right size again. I notice the world around me, and my body feels like part of it instead of something I have to control.

That reduction in anxiety is real. There’s likely some dopamine involved, but I think it’s more than that. It’s about co-regulation — the way movement can anchor a restless mind back into the body. For ADHD brains, that’s gold. When the world feels noisy and full of demands, movement creates a kind of rhythm and focus that medication or meditation alone can’t always reach.

I’ve been thinking about offering walking therapy sessions for that reason. For some people, sitting face to face feels too intense. Walking side by side changes the dynamic. It opens up space — literally and emotionally. It’s easier to talk when your body is already in motion, when silence is filled with the sound of footsteps instead of tension.

Maybe that’s the real appeal of the Hot Girl Walk. It’s not about being a “hot girl” at all. It’s about reclaiming movement as something intimate and alive. You don’t have to dress up or track your steps. You just have to show up — as you are, in whatever body you have today, and move through the world without apology.

If you’ve spent years hating exercise, or hating the way it made you feel about yourself, I get it. The messaging around movement has been harsh, especially for women. But what if movement could be something that holds you, not something you have to fight? What if the goal isn’t weight loss or discipline but connection and care?

So if you need a name for it, call it a Hot Girl Walk, or don’t. Call it a Thinking Walk, a Reset Walk, or a “trying to feel like myself again” walk. The name doesn’t matter. What matters is giving yourself permission to move in a way that feels kind.

For neurodivergent people, that might mean shorter bursts of movement throughout the day, or dancing while making coffee, or walking with music that matches your mood. It doesn’t have to look a certain way.

You don’t have to be graceful or sporty or motivated — just curious about how movement might shift something in you.

If you notice anxiety easing, thoughts slowing, or your body feeling a bit more like home, that’s the work. That’s the therapy in motion.

So here’s my take: You don’t need to earn your movement or justify it. 

Because when movement becomes a way to connect with yourself instead of to correct yourself, that’s when it finally stops being a chore — and starts feeling like freedom.