How I Lost My Father and Found Myself Again in the Gym
There are moments in life that change everything. Not gradually. Not gently. But all at once.
That night was one of those moments.
A Man Who Gave Everything
My father was no ordinary man. He came from Angola to the Netherlands during a civil war, to build a better life. He believed in his dreams when no one else did. From nothing, he built something. For every problem, he had a solution. He never gave up. Never.
That was my father.
The Night Everything Changed
That day at work, I suddenly felt sick. I couldn't explain it. A few hours later, my father passed away. A cardiac arrest. Without saying goodbye. It was the worst nightmare I have ever lived through. And to this day, it still is.
His Faith, His Music, His Goodbye
Before my father passed, he had become deeply devoted to his faith. Every morning, he listened to gospel songs that gave him strength to face the day.
Before I went on a reality TV show in the Netherlands, I asked him: "Papa, send me those songs." And he did. I created an entire album from the songs he sent me, the ones that gave him strength every single morning.
When he passed away, I already had a complete farewell album ready to play at his funeral. He had unknowingly given me his goodbye.
I still listen to those songs. And every time I do, I recognise my father in the music.
What No One Tells You About Grief
Grief is different for everyone. In the beginning, you barely have time to feel. You arrange things. The funeral, the paperwork, the people. Everything passes like a dream.
And then come the peaks and the valleys. Moments where it feels bearable, followed by moments where the ground disappears beneath you. When you have never lost a parent, life feels like it goes on forever. Until loss comes that close. And suddenly you realise: life doesn't last forever. Nothing will ever look the same again.
What made it even heavier: two weeks before my father passed, I had participated in a reality TV show. Those two worlds collided in a way I could never have prepared for.
In the beginning, there are a lot of people around you. And then... life just went on. For everyone. Except for me, my sister, and my mother. I couldn't eat. Couldn't drink. I became thinner and thinner. That silence sometimes hurt almost as much as the loss itself.
His Name as My Strength
The gym had always been my place. But during my grief, I lost that too. Until one day, I went back. Not because I wanted to. But because I didn't know what else to do.
And something happened there.
When it got hard, when the weight felt too heavy, when I wanted to stop, I called his name. And then I felt it. His strength. His perseverance. His refusal to give up.
He never gave up. So neither will I.
Every workout became a tribute to him. I no longer train just for myself. I train in his name, with his strength. And that gives me the energy to keep going every single day.
From the Gym to Home — and Back Again
But grief is not always loud. Sometimes the last thing you want is to be surrounded by people.
There were days I could not face the gym. On those days, I trained at home. In silence. Just me, my body, and my thoughts.
And somewhere in that silence, an idea was born. Why choose? Some days you need the energy of a gym. Other days you need the quiet of your own space.
That is why I created two programs — a home workout and a gym workout. So that no matter where you are, you can always show up for yourself.
What I Have Learned
Grief has no timeline. No moment when you are "done." It comes in waves, sometimes gentle, sometimes overwhelming. But this I know for certain: without my faith in God, I could not have done it. Even when you feel like you've lost everyone, you still have God and the strength within yourself. Movement can carry you forward when nothing else can. Not because it takes away the pain — but because it reminds you that you are still alive. That you are stronger than you think.
For Him. For Us. For You.
Before my father passed, he knew about our dream. My sister and I had been working for two years on building a workout program and a community for women. We were perfectionists. Everything had to be right. And him? He believed in it from day one.
Just before he died, he said: "When will it be ready? Is it ready yet? Is it already online?!"
My sister and I go through everything together, the grief, the emptiness, but also this. We started it with love. And we will finish it with the strength of our father — and the unwavering support of our mother, who has always believed in us. The three of us carry this together.
You Are Not Alone
If you are going through something too, loss, loneliness, the feeling that your life has come to a standstill, know this: you don't have to carry it alone.
I know what it feels like, because I have been through it too — and I still go through it, every single day. Every day is different. But I keep going. In the strength of my father. I never thought I would be able to write a blog like this, start a community, or create a workout program. But here I am. And together, we are stronger. 💜
— Ireen
If you need to feel stronger — mentally and physically — I made this for you. Together, we are stronger.
