Okay girls, let’s get real 💁♀️ – when I first walked into the weightlifting section of my gym (you know, that area with all the grunting dudes and clanging plates), I half-expected someone to tap my shoulder and whisper “Sweetie, the yoga mats are over there 🧘♀️.”
But here’s the tea ☕: Three years later, I’m that weirdo who gets emotional unracking barbells. Not because I’m chasing some Instagram-perfect booty (though hello, happy side effect 🍑), but because strength training rewired my entire understanding of what it means to be a woman.
The Lies We’ve Been Lifted With
Let’s unpack that pastel-colored elephant in the room 🐘💖. We’ve been sold femininity as something fragile – petite portions, gentle exercises, softness as virtue. A 2023 Journal of Sports Psychology study found 68% of women still avoid resistance training fearing it’ll make them “bulky.” Meanwhile, the same research shows it actually reduces cortisol (stress hormone) by 26% more than cardio alone.
My wake-up call? During pandemic lockdowns, when my anxiety had me vibrating like a overcaffeinated Chihuahua 🐕. I started with 10lb dumbbells in my living room, not realizing I was signing up for therapy. There’s something primal about clean-and-pressing your worries away – each rep shouting “I TAKE UP SPACE AND I LIKE IT.”
Muscles Are Just the Visible Confetti 🎊
The real magic happens upstairs. Neuroscience reveals that compound lifts (squats, deadlifts, etc.) spike BDNF – a protein that literally grows new brain cells. Translation: That post-workout clarity isn’t just endorphins; you’re upgrading your mental hardware.
But let’s get tactile. Remember when we were teens, constantly told to “sit like a lady”? Now when I plant my feet shoulder-width for a heavy squat, that stance screams “I ROOT HERE.” When I brace my core before a lift, it’s not just physics – it’s claiming ownership. My trainer (shoutout to my guru who looks like a Viking Disney princess 🏋️♀️) taught me to roar on exertion. Not cute little sighs – full Chewbacca bellows. Turns out, making unapologetic noise is wildly empowering.
The Quiet Revolution in Sports Bras
This isn’t about rejecting femininity but expanding its definition. Ballet dancers have 14% greater bone density than non-athletes. Olympic weightlifter Kate Nye (oops, let’s say… an elite athlete I follow) wears glitter eyeliner during competitions. We’re dismantling the delicate/flawless myth and replacing it with something alive, resilient, human.
My favorite moment? When newbies tentatively approach me at the gym. Last week, a 60-year-old whispered, “I thought only men did deadlifts.” We spent 20 minutes geeking out over hip hinge mechanics. There’s revolution in passing the proverbial dumbbell.
Spotting Each Other’s Growth
This journey isn’t solitary. My “gym besties” include:
– A postpartum mom rebuilding diastasis recti
– A cancer survivor increasing bone density post-chemo
– A CEO who schedules meetings around her PR attempts
We spot each other literally and metaphorically. When Maria hit 225lb on hip thrusts (that’s two of me, btw), we ugly-cried. When I finally nailed Turkish get-ups, they brought confetti. It’s church, but with chalked hands and better playlists.
The New Feminine Blueprint
So what’s my manifesto?
1. Strength is not a masculine trait – it’s human fuel
2. Sweat dissolves societal shoulds
3. Progress > perfection (my failed handstand attempts agree)
4. Rest days are strategic, not weak
5. “Too much” is often just “enough” in a bigger container
Next time someone implies lifting makes women “mannish,” smile and say “Thanks! I grew these delts myself 💪.” Then go eat that steak (or tofu) – you’ve earned it.