The beauty of strength

I want to take a moment to talk about strength today. Strength in all forms. Physical strength that is really a representation of the strength of character that it takes to achieve physical strength. Strength of conviction. Strength of character. Strength of mind over matter. A woman who is physically strong is most likely emotionally strong. I very clearly see this connection now, as time is progressing.

What I have noticed more and more over the past couple months is while my body physically transforms into someone with muscles, what is all the more evident is the emotional strength I am acquiring. Strength that I had no idea I possessed. Sure, I always knew I was a determined driven girl. That much is not lost on me. But what has been the biggest and happiest surprise of this entire journey is how fundamentally strong my inside is growing. I am quite simply BLOWN AWAY.

Here’s the deal. I am not a stranger to images of strong woman. Not only did I constantly seek them out as my own personal role models, but when you are forever on a quest for health and wellness you stumble upon image after image of crazy strong, fit, toned women. Being honest with myself, not a single time did I see a picture of a truly fit woman and doubt the effort she put in. I did not doubt that she had to be strong of character and heart. Quite frankly, physical strength is not something that is just given out randomly. Sure, some people might be more apt to build muscle or be more naturally athletically gifted. But true strength is something that is earned with hard work and perseverance.

Given my multiple attempts at sustained weight loss, I have had the rare opportunity to see my body transform on numerous occasions from someone who is considerably overweight to someone of “healthy” size. Not once previously did I ever acquire actual physical strength. I ran and ran and ultimately always did end up rocking pretty muscular calves but other than that I was an average woman. There was nothing wrong with my soft 140 pound body. Ever. It was fine. It was beautiful. It was a direct result of the actual effort I put forth. End of story. But having experienced a healthy 140 pound body and not having it look “fit”, always allowed me to see images of strong fit woman and know how much work they clearly must put in. It gave me this interesting perspective on what it must take to be that muscular and it was always this idea of something that was clearly beyond obtainable for my brain. I am not sure why I always assumed that.

If I could consider the reasons its most likely because I simply put was not strong enough emotionally to endure what I needed to in order to transform myself into a physically strong woman. I couldn’t get past my own self-imposed limits. And yes, there are quite a few self-imposed limits that I am slowly learning to break free from.

In the back of my head I have to admit that I was always happy with being 140 pounds but disillusioned with the reality that I was still so flabby and soft. In hindsight, probably why it was so easy to gain the weight back so often. I never looked exactly like I wanted. Not that this was the most important thing, it never was. But I always admired a strong woman. Physically because it seemed to me that she clearly had to be this strong ass woman in all aspects of her life. I suspect that is what I was after more than a physical representation of strength, the emotional strength I believed she must possess underneath the muscle.

An interesting thing has been happening in my mind the last week or so. This little light is going off and suddenly I am getting it. I am getting the reality that holy fuck, somehow, some way, I woke up one day and I WAS as strong as I imagined all those girls to be.

Now you can call taking pictures of yourself in not a lot of clothing (bikini’s, ass shots, etc.) as skanky or self-indulgent or whatever you want, but for me it is slightly life altering. And I am going to tell you why. I don’t play by the same mental principals as your average, been thin my whole life kind of girl. My mental perception is completely out of whack. Courage is something that is generally elusive and all together evasive for me. Taking a photo of me in a bikini becomes life altering when I finally, truly, see my own strength.

Here’s the deal. The photo of me in the bikini from yesterday, or rather that I took on Sunday, was a physical picture, a physical reminder of how far I’ve come. I am proud of my hard work. And after I snapped this series of photos I was amazed and blown away because for the first time I saw my strong girl. And not just physically, but that girl in that image looks strong on the inside too. You know why, because she is strong enough to not care what other people think. She is strong enough to believe she is beautiful and post a picture on the internet and let the world really see her. I am strong because I believe in myself. I am strong because I no longer am accepting anything less than happiness for myself. Life is hard enough all on its own without us needing to accept less than we deserve.

I did something interesting that you can call dumb if you want but I brought that image up on my computer monitor and I physically used my hand to cover up my head so I just saw a body. My body. And you know what, I saw a strong fit woman starring back at me. I saw a body of a woman I would love to look like. I saw the body of someone who clearly is a testament to the dedication, determination and commitment it takes to obtain a body like that. And for all the perseverance it takes to obtain a body like that, you can’t help but be making your insides strong. So yes, covering my head was this magical moment of holy shit for me. That is a strong body and that is MY body.

The one thing that is not adequately represented in that photo is the growth that has occurred inside my brain. Muscles are not achieved thru weakness or self-doubt. Your body will not go where you mind won’t allow it. My mind is strong. And this makes me want to cry. Is that weakness? Hell no. That is strength too. Because I realize how much this entire journey has made me this woman that I’ve been chasing my whole life. How my insides are matching the physical transformation that my outside has made.

I don’t just look strong, I AM strong. I have my moments of self-doubt. I have freak outs in the mirror. I have freak outs in life. But that body is mine. That inside belief in myself is all earned. I did that. And I find beauty in all of it.

There is much debate about women and muscles and looking feminine or too muscular, blah blah blah. I fucking love every muscle I am earning because it is my sign of enduring inner strength. I have a new theory; all muscular women are kick ass strong fighters. There is a reason they end up pushing thru and becoming muscular, some driving force on their insides that push them on. They are survivors. Fighters. Champions.

I think my muscle is beautiful because I know not only the dedication it took to build them, but I know that the process has done internally for me. Confidence. I am confident. That is something that I have never been my entire life. Not even previous times weighing 140 pounds. I am confident in my body, in my mind, in myself. I believe I can do the things that I want. Anything that I want.

A woman does not build muscle and look fit by accident. It can only be achieved over time with continual patience and effort. Strength is a gift that you give to yourself and one that has far reaching repercussions beyond what you originally could have imagined! I am strong. I am confident, and I am capable. But I am mostly proud of everything that I have managed to achieve because I earned it. I worked for it and mostly I deserve it. So I will keep going, because I am so excited to see where else I can go.