If Your “Women’s-Only” Gym Excludes Trans Women, It’s Not A Safe Space

When fitness influencer Natalee Barnett first announced plans to open The Girls Spot, a women’s-only gym in London in 2021, the internet embraced the idea with general enthusiasm. Despite some pushback, the overwhelming support from women stemmed from a genuine place of feeling seen, because although it often goes easily dismissed, gym harassment is a well-documented issue. According to the Chartered Institute for the Management of Sport and Physical Activity, 42% of women have experienced some form of sexual harassment or intimidation in their local fitness or leisure center. With many women avoiding the gym altogether due to concerns about their safety and comfort, Barnett seemed to be filling a significant gap in the market.

As opening a gym is no small financial feat, Barnett took to crowdfunding. She was able to successfully raise £2,900 from public donations and through the virality of Barnett’s announcement on social media, the gym was able to procure a Gymshark sponsorship of £20,000. To cover extra costs, she fundraised with the sale of  e-guides, reportedly generating nearly £50,000 in additional funds. She had turned to her online community, particularly Black women, and they had returned their support in kind.  

After much anticipation, Barnett officially announced last month that The Girls Spot had secured a location in southwest London and its opening was imminent. Since then, she’s provided regular updates on social media, sharing progress on the gym’s interior, promotional content, and answering logistical questions including membership costs. But as the launch drew nearer, one question loomed large: What does a “women’s-only gym” really mean in 2025?

Here enters her most recent controversy. On March 9th, in a confessional-style influencer apology video, Natalee Barnett addressed an old tweet and video in which she had initially claimed that her gym would be an inclusive space for LGBTQ+ members, particularly trans women. However, in this video, shared across her various social media platforms, she rescinded her offer, stating that the gym was now only for “biological women” who unduly needed protection, which she claimed was the foundation of her business. She insisted that while this was a difficult decision, it was the right one because “everyone deserves a safe space” from male violence.

But what Barnett seems blissfully ignorant of is this: making exclusion of trans women the bedrock of your business forfeits your right to call it a “safe space” for anyone. Your community designates what is indeed safe for individuals, it's not a sticker you slap on without feedback and review.

Her video swiftly ignited backlash online, with many calling her decision transphobic, deceitful, and potentially illegal. Some users demanded refunds for their donations. While the criticism was loud and clear, the support she received was laced with clumsy, incoherent arguments about the supposed rights of business owners over the rights of individuals. As is often the case with those defending reactionary politics, they claimed to be the more “logical” side with a unique penchant for choosing "facts over feelings." Yet, they have been misled. Many have mistaken Barnett’s personal brand and identity as interchangeable with her business, failing to recognize that The Girls Spot is a public entity making it subject to the same scrutiny and code of conduct as any other business, regardless of it being female and Black owned.

It would be negligent not to acknowledge the transphobic dog whistles embedded in Barnett’s initial and subsequent videos and statements. Her seemingly casual use of phrases like “biological women,” “single-sex space,” and “female” reveal the playbook she is taking cues from; this is  the language of TERFs (trans-exclusionary radical feminists). Even more insidious is her attempt to link the very real experiences of sexual harassment and trauma faced by cis women at the hands of cis men to the supposed need to be protected from trans women ignoring the staggering statistics that show trans people, particularly trans women of color, face disproportionately high levels of violence.

This entire controversy is a testament to how effectively the rhetoric of prominent UK transphobes, such as J.K. Rowling (who has already voiced her support for Barnett’s stance) and the LGB Alliance, has infiltrated mainstream discourse. What once felt like fringe beliefs in certain feminist circles has now bled into the wider public consciousness. The fabricated notion that trans women pose a threat to cis women has been cemented as a commonplace belief.

It would be charitable to say that Natalee Barnett is simply out of her depth – if, that is, she truly does not intend to add to the dangers trans women already face. Because in the past 72 hours, we’ve all seen exactly how these types of controversies spiral into dangerous, targeted harassment against vulnerable groups led by “concerned parties”. 

The participation of cis Black women in trans-exclusionary rhetoric is particularly painful, given the historical parallels between the ways Black women’s womanhood has been questioned and how trans women’s existence is scrutinized. Black women have long been ungendered, being denied full recognition as women, whether through racist stereotypes, sports, or government policies that treat us as inherently non-woman. And yet, some Black women are now aligning and reinforcing the very system that has marginalized them, acting as enforcers of a rigid gender binary rooted in white supremacist ideals.  

Igna Sieni, a Black trans woman from Kent finds it all unsurprising. Sieni goes on to explain that, “I don’t expect much from cis women. And, this entire issue is why I’m not going to the gym.”

 The digital zeitgeist has become overly concerned in leaning into femininity by any means necessary especially as conservative ideals are pushed to the forefront. Aligning with transphobia offers some Black women a sense of proximity to power, a way to assert themselves in a world that often seeks to erase them. But this is a dangerous allegiance, as it comes at the sake of a group more persecuted than ourselves. Denial of personhood is a weapon of oppression that Black women should vehemently against, not singularly for the fear of how it my richoct back to us, but because we have an investment in liberation for all.  

Many rallying around Barnett argue that criticism of her actions is an attack on Black women’s progress. But true progress isn’t just about individual success, it’s about collective liberation. Representation alone is not justice, and success that comes at the expense of others is a false sense of empowerment. We should all be indignant when our struggle is used to justify harm against another vulnerable group. If our liberation is to mean anything, it must be rooted in justice for everyone, not just those who fit within the boundaries of respectability or mainstream acceptance.

“The real problem has been how feminist theory has confused the condition of one group of women to be the condition of all.”  Elizabeth Spelman writes in Inessential Woman: Problems of Exclusion in Feminist Thought.

Transmisogyny is as real as misogynoir. The purposeful erasure of trans women from public spaces is violent transmisogyny spearheaded by those that wish to enforce a strict code of how gender should be “properly” performed and interpreted. The question of who defines a “safe space” for women is not just about Barnett’s gym; it speaks to broader issues of gender entitlement which is defined by Julia Serano, trans activist and author of Whipping Girl: A Transsexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity, as “how [cis women] consider themselves to be the ultimate arbiters of which people are allowed to call themselves women or men”.

Historically, women, particularly queer and Black women, have carved out spaces for themselves in response to oppression. But the logic behind “who belongs” is often deeply flawed. If queer spaces have long been safe havens for women, why do some women resist the idea of extending that same safety to trans women? Cisgender privilege allows some women to act as gatekeepers of womanhood, defining safety in a way that prioritizes their comfort at the expense of others. But true safety cannot be built on exclusion, it requires solidarity.

Dr. Ashley Spindler, who runs the account @trans.girl.lifting to encourage trans women to enter fitness spaces, puts it plainly, “Ultimately, the crux of the issue is that when you try and create a space that polices what a woman can be, you harm all women.”

Can true inclusivity exist in spaces where its inhabitants are built on exclusion of trans people? What does inclusivity even mean when it's been bastardized beyond recognition? The events surrounding The Girls Spot are a reminder that we must question not just who is excluded from spaces, but also who feels comfortable in them. What does it say about our politics if a gym that openly denies the humanity of trans women still attracts widespread support? We are at a crossroads. We are either fighting against the co-opting of feminist language and talking points rooted in politics designating it a movement for all women starting from the bottom up, or we allow it to become a breeding ground for fascism that will eventually fracture under the weight of exclusionary politics. 

This moment, especially in the wake of International Women’s Day, is a test. As Marquis Bey poignantly writes in Black Trans Feminism, “Transness forces feminism to heed its radical commitment to inclusivity, which, as it were, is propelled by the radically inclusive Blackness of Black feminism.”

The choice is ours.