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Thoughts in Ink

We Were Not Doctors. But We Were Paying Attention.

A group of women walking together down a palm-lined road

Long before PCOS became PMOS, something was happening inside Fitness Space that caught my attention.

Women who had been diagnosed with PCOS would join our community and, over time, some of them seemed to get better.

I want to be careful with that sentence.

We were not doctors.

Fitness Space had nutritionists, dietitians and fitness coaches, but we did not diagnose PCOS. We did not prescribe drugs. We did not ask anyone to abandon medical care. We never presented ourselves as treating PCOS.

We were trying to help people live healthier lives.

But we were also paying attention.

And sometimes, when you stay close enough to people, you notice things before you fully understand them.

We kept seeing something

Our approach wasn't particularly mysterious.

We helped people portion their meals better.

We encouraged them to add vegetables to their meals.

We encouraged regular exercise and physical activity.

We gave them structure and accountability.

And we surrounded them with other people trying to make healthier decisions too.

That last part mattered more than I initially understood.

Trying to change your life alone is difficult.

Inside a community, someone notices when you show up. Someone encourages you when you struggle. Someone else's progress reminds you that yours is possible.

And among some of the women who came to us with PCOS, we started seeing improvements.

At first, I didn't have a theory for it.

I just noticed.

Then there was Rosemary.

Rosemary

Rosemary lives in Bayelsa.

Before joining Fitness Space, she had been diagnosed by a clinician with ovarian cysts.

She became part of our community and started doing the things we were encouraging everyone else to do.

She worked on her portions.

She ate more vegetables.

She exercised regularly.

She followed the structure.

She had the accountability of the community around her.

And she kept going.

Later, Rosemary returned for medical evaluation.

Her clinician confirmed that the ovarian cysts were no longer present.

That was a big moment for her.

It was also a big moment for us.

Rosemary has given me permission to share her story, but there is a distinction I think is important.

Her original diagnosis was made by a clinician.

The subsequent absence of the cysts was confirmed by a clinician.

But I cannot tell you that Fitness Space cured Rosemary's ovarian cysts.

That would require a medical conclusion we are not qualified to make.

What I can tell you is what happened between those two clinical assessments.

She changed the way she ate. She exercised. She became more consistent. She participated in our community. And when she was examined again, the cysts were no longer there.

We noticed.

Rosemary wasn't PCOS

There is something else I understand better now.

Ovarian cysts and what was then called PCOS are not the same condition.

That distinction actually becomes important later in this story.

Rosemary's experience stayed with me, but so did what we were observing among women who specifically told us they had been diagnosed with PCOS.

Some of them seemed to respond particularly well when they became more consistent with nutrition and exercise.

Better portions.

More vegetables.

Regular physical activity.

Structure.

Community.

Consistency.

The more we saw it, the more curious I became.

What exactly were we looking at?

Maybe this wasn't only about the ovaries

I didn't know.

And there is nothing wrong with saying that.

One of the dangers of observing something repeatedly is becoming so excited by the pattern that you invent an explanation for it.

We didn't have clinical research.

We weren't conducting a controlled study.

These were people inside our community, living complicated lives, sometimes receiving medical care alongside what they were doing with us.

So I couldn't say:

This is why these women are improving.

But I could ask a question.

Could there be a metabolic and lifestyle component to what we were seeing?

That question stayed with me.

Then, in 2026, something happened.

PCOS got a new name.

PCOS became PMOS

Polycystic Ovary Syndrome became Polyendocrine Metabolic Ovarian Syndrome, or PMOS.

The change was the result of a global process involving patients, clinicians, researchers and professional organisations. The American Society for Reproductive Medicine endorsed the new name in May 2026. (ASRM)

I remember seeing the new name.

Polyendocrine.

Metabolic.

Ovarian.

And one word immediately stood out to me.

Metabolic.

I thought about the women we had worked with.

I thought about their meals.

I thought about exercise.

I thought about weight.

I thought about the changes we had observed when some of them became more consistent with healthier behaviours.

And I thought:

Maybe we had been looking at one small part of a much bigger picture.

Not discovering it.

Not treating it.

Just looking at it.

The medical understanding behind PMOS is broader than ovaries alone. Specialists involved in the transition describe involvement across multiple endocrine systems and metabolic health, alongside the reproductive manifestations of the condition. (ASRM)

And interestingly, the old name had been misleading in another way.

The “cysts” many people associated with PCOS weren't actually the defining ovarian cysts the name led ordinary people to imagine. That confusion was one of the reasons advocates and clinicians had pushed for a better name. (ASRM)

Suddenly, even the distinction between Rosemary's story and the experiences of our members with PCOS became clearer to me.

We hadn't discovered a treatment

I don't want this story misunderstood.

PMOS is a medical condition.

People diagnosed with it should receive appropriate medical care.

Nutrition isn't a substitute for a doctor.

Exercise isn't a substitute for medical treatment.

Community isn't medicine.

And Fitness Space did not discover a cure for PCOS before the medical world renamed it PMOS.

That isn't the story.

The story is much simpler.

We were close enough to people to notice something.

Women would come into our community carrying a diagnosis we didn't treat.

We helped them with the things we understood: food, portions, movement, consistency, accountability and community.

And in some of them, we saw meaningful changes.

We didn't completely understand why.

So we kept paying attention.

Years later, the name of the condition itself changed to better reflect its broader endocrine and metabolic nature. (ASRM)

That didn't prove our observations.

But it gave me a better language for thinking about them.

There is value in not knowing

Building Fitness Space has taught me something I think extends beyond health.

You don't always have to have an explanation immediately.

Sometimes the responsible thing is to say:

I don't know. But I noticed this.

Then keep watching.

Keep asking questions.

Bring in people who know more than you.

Don't turn anecdotes into science.

Don't turn correlation into causation.

But don't become so afraid of being wrong that you stop noticing what is happening in front of you.

There is knowledge in research.

There is knowledge in expertise.

There is knowledge in data.

And then there is the beginning of knowledge:

observation.

Years ago, we watched women with PCOS come into Fitness Space.

We changed none of their diagnoses.

We prescribed no medication.

We made no promises about curing anything.

We helped them eat differently.

We encouraged them to move.

We gave them structure.

We gave them a community.

And some of them got better.

So we noticed.

Years later, PCOS became PMOS.

And when I saw the word metabolic sitting there in the new name, I thought about all those women again.

Sometimes you understand what you're seeing while you're seeing it.

Sometimes understanding arrives years later.

But first,

you have to be paying attention.