For the past month or so, I've really been noticing my upper body muscles. Admiring their increasing size, their increasing definition, flexing to see just how much striation I can produce. Getting hulky. I am LOVING my strength with every fiber of my being.
After spending my entire life feeling like a weak, pathetic, little wimp of a girl, and feeling as though I'm expected to be a delicate ladylike flower, it's an amazing, life-changing difference to feel STRONG. Powerful. Confident. Badass. Ready for life.
And yet ... somewhere around two weeks ago, I started to wonder what others think of my upper body. My shoulders and biceps are decidedly not feminine. If I presented you with a cropped picture of me flexing them, I suspect you'd first assume it's a man's arms. I'm nowhere near the impressive definition of fitness models, but my addiction to pull-ups and benching has produced some serious muscle.
Yet society's preference for females is that we be lean & thin with only light muscle definition. Which I will never be. I'm way beyond light muscle, and don't intend to make myself weaker in order to shrink these unladylike muscles down. And lean & thin, regardless of my muscle size, takes a level of effort - & unhappiness - that I'm simply not willing to trade anymore. So I started to get a little down as it sank in: I just can't win at this game.
Or can I?
Because who says I even have to play that game? Why the fuck should I care what society deems attractive? Do I exist solely to present an appealing image to others? Is that my purpose on Earth?
Abso-fucking-lutely NOT.
I do not lift weights to look good. I lift weights to BE strong.
I do not run to look good. I run to FEEL amazing.
Because when I am strong, I am happy. Because when running is fun, I am happy. And if I am happy, then I am winning at the game of life. Period.
I don't need society's stupid pointless games; I'm too busy enjoying my life. Now, please excuse me while I go bench-press some humans.
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