To understand why this dynamic works, you have to understand the psychology of long-term athletic development. Cheryl isn’t just being bossy. She’s applying principles that most young lifters ignore:
There is a widely circulated sketch (often titled similarly) involving a gym setting where a girlfriend or partner treats her boyfriend like a small child in front of others at the gym (wiping his face, talking in a baby voice, etc.).
The Review:
It stung the first time she said it.
I was halfway through a grueling set of deficit deadlifts, straps tight, quaking under a barbell loaded with enough weight to make a powerlifter nod in respect. My form was starting to slip—a subtle curve in my lower back, my breath held hostage in my chest. My Gym Mommy Treats Me Like A Kid-
From the platform next to me, a woman in her late 40s with a ponytail and a "Strong Like Mom" tank top didn’t shout encouragement. She didn’t yell, "You got this, beast!"
She walked over, tapped my spine, and said, "Nope. Reset. And stop holding your breath like a toddler who doesn’t want to eat his broccoli."
Her name is Cheryl. To the rest of the gym, she’s just another early-morning regular. To me, she’s "Gym Mommy." And yes—she treats me like a kid. She corrects my posture like she’s fixing my collar before a school picture. She asks if I ate my vegetables. She once made me sit in time-out (a plyo box in the corner) for ego-lifting.
For a long time, I hated it. I’m 28 years old. I have a mortgage, a 401(k), and a tattoo. I shouldn’t be parented by a woman who brings me protein muffins and texts me "Did you stretch?" with a winking emoji. To understand why this dynamic works, you have
But here’s the truth I’ve learned, sweating on the rubber floor: Being treated like a kid in the gym might be the most adult decision I’ve ever made.
Here is where the mindset shift happens.
When Cheryl treats me like a kid, she removes a burden I didn’t know I was carrying: the burden of having to know everything.
Think about it. When you’re the "adult in the room," you have to perform. You have to look confident. You can’t ask dumb questions. You can’t say, "Actually, I’m scared of this lift," or "Can you watch my hips on this squat?" It stung the first time she said it
But when Gym Mommy takes the reins, the pressure evaporates. I stop trying to impress anyone—including myself. I become a student again. And students make faster progress than know-it-alls. Always.
Consider these moments where being "kid-treated" saved me:
Each time, I felt like a scolded child. And each time, I was grateful.