When many people picture a personal trainer, they imagine a lean body and visible abs, but British coach Rhianna Cooper is proof that the industry’s old image is not the only one. Cooper, 33, has built her career while living in a plus-size body, and that alone has made her a target online. She says the fitness world still clings to the idea that only slim, traditionally “fit” people are allowed to teach. The comments can get nasty fast, often boiling down to one dismissive question, “How can she train other people?”
Cooper runs her own business called Not So Typical Fitness, and she is open about the prejudice she runs into. She is not selling fantasies like a “summer body in 30 days,” and she is not trying to force clients into an idealized social media look. Instead, she specializes in working with people who find gyms intimidating and stressful. Her client base often includes anxious or nervous beginners and neurodivergent people who fear being watched or judged.
She describes a pattern that is heartbreakingly common in fitness spaces. People tell her they want to exercise, they have even decided they are ready to start, then anxiety slams the brakes at the entrance. Some clients cannot make themselves walk into the gym at all, because the fear of comments or stares feels overwhelming. Cooper tries to meet them where they are, building routines in a way that makes movement feel safer and more human. The goal is not just strength, but confidence that grows step by step.
Online critics, however, keep insisting her body disqualifies her from coaching. Under her posts, she sees everything from smug put-downs to outright insults. Some call it “hypocritical” that she trains others while being overweight, as if fitness can only be proven by a specific silhouette. Others try to turn the idea into a joke, comparing her to “a bald barber” or “a financial adviser who lives in a tent.” A few go even further and label the very existence of plus-size trainers as “morally wrong.”
Cooper’s response is that fitness should be measured by what your body can do, not how it looks. She frames progress in everyday wins, like not getting out of breath while walking her dog. She talks about feeling more stable and stronger in daily life, which is the kind of change that matters long after a trend fades. She also says she is preparing for multiple competitions, underscoring that capability and body size are not the same thing.
According to news.com.au, her personal training sessions cost around 40 euros per hour. Cooper says she often works with clients “from scratch,” not assuming any baseline fitness, gym knowledge, or comfort with the environment. That usually means building physical capacity alongside the mindset needed to show up consistently. It also means treating confidence like a muscle that needs progressive loading, not shaming. Her approach is less about punishment and more about helping people reclaim space they were taught to avoid.
Lately, a louder cultural push has been challenging the old stereotypes, sometimes summed up as being “fit at any size.” The basic idea is that someone can be active, strong, and improving their health even if they do not appear thin. Cooper’s story sits right in the middle of that debate, because the backlash she gets is rooted in the assumption that weight is the only health metric that matters. She argues that movement can improve many aspects of wellbeing without dramatic weight loss being the headline. Still, the internet often operates on a harsh shortcut, if the trainer does not look “ideal,” people assume they must not know what they are doing.
That exact logic is what brought influencer and YouTuber Joe Fazer into Cooper’s orbit. Fazer, who has more than two million followers, decided to see whether she was actually a good coach after watching how often strangers doubted her. They set up a joint workout, and Cooper immediately told him she would not treat him like an advanced gym regular. She said she would approach him the way she would a typical client who might feel nervous or out of place in a gym. The point was to demonstrate her method, not to perform for the camera.
Their session began with walking on a treadmill and talking through her approach before shifting into strength work. Cooper focused heavily on technique and form, keeping the training structured and deliberate. By the end, Fazer looked visibly winded and seemed surprised by how demanding the workout was. The moment mattered because it cut through the stereotype with something simple, results in real time. It also highlighted a truth many people forget, good coaching is about clarity, safety, and progression, not the coach’s waistline.
When asked how she deals with people insisting she should not be a trainer, Cooper offered a direct definition of legitimacy. “Personal trainers can be anyone who educates themselves, gets qualified, does the work, and has clients.” That statement is a rebuke to the idea that fitness credentials are visible on the body like a logo. She hopes examples like this reduce stigma for larger-bodied people who already feel judged in gyms. More than that, she wants fitness to be understood as something for anyone who wants to feel stronger and healthier without fear of other people’s opinions.
More broadly, personal training is a profession built on education, communication, and coaching skill, with many trainers earning certifications in anatomy, strength programming, and client safety. A great trainer knows how to scale a workout up or down, teach movement patterns clearly, and spot when a client needs encouragement rather than pressure. Weight stigma can make gyms feel unwelcoming, especially for beginners who already assume they will be stared at. Approaches that center function, strength, and consistency can help people build a healthier relationship with exercise over time. If you have ever felt judged in a gym or supported by a trainer who broke the stereotype, share your thoughts in the comments.
