I’ve been hearing lately how many guys don’t find a woman with defined muscles attractive. I’ve even listened to girls say they never want to be muscular because “It’s gross,” or “It looks bad.” I used to watch my figure, only doing cardio and never lifting, just so my muscles wouldn’t increase in size; however, over the past year, I’ve been involved in kickboxing and self-defense, and… I have muscles now! My hope from writing this is that females everywhere will feel comfortable being strong and having defined muscles.
My muscles aren’t that big by any means, but they are strong. I’ve spent all my life feeling scrawny and little. I used to be too weak to fight back whenever anyone picked on me. I couldn’t defend the people I love the most from the bullies who tried to dull their shine. Now, I feel fierce. It’s taken years of sweat, tears and hours of pushing myself harder and further than I ever thought I could go. My muscles are a symbol – a physical representation of all my hard work, of my determination and resilience. The bullies that tried to defeat me and the villains who hurt my loved ones – I finally feel strong enough to defeat them. It’s because of them, my muscles. They are the reason I feel strong enough. They are the reason I feel confident enough to finally show off my figure after 18 years of being too insecure to do so.
I feel like a powerful woman. I am capable, at last, of taking care of myself. I can trust myself to escape from a dangerous situation. My muscles have allowed me to play soccer with the gracefulness of a ballerina, yet the fierceness of a lion. I will stop allowing others to insult my progress. I will embrace the beauty of my muscular, defined body and its symbolic representation of how far I’ve come in life. My muscles are not disgusting. I didn’t build them up to intimidate others. They are strong, lovely, beautiful and fierce. They are my muscles: a part of who I am and my life story. They are capable of defeating dragons and promoting confidence and strength.
I’ve grown up from a little kid with scrawny, awkward limbs to a young woman with a toned physique. I remember hearing negative insults directed towards women with defined muscles. I’d look in the mirror, too afraid to wear a sleeveless blouse in case a guy seemed disgusted by me. Last semester, I remember going to kickboxing twice a week and feeling increasingly powerful. I felt myself growing in confidence, walking with my head held high, and a smile on my face every day. I thought, “to heck with people who can’t find beauty in hard work.” I am beautiful, defined muscles and all.