From Skinny To Strong

I posted this picture on Instagram and I can't give enough gratitude for the feedback it received:

Yes, on the picture to the left (taken in April), I was 5 ft. 7 in. tall and 105 lbs. In case you aren't familiar with the healthy weights ranges, that is considered severely underweight. The two pictures on the right were taken recently this month, and at the same height I am at a healthy 125 lbs. and steadily gaining.

It's hard for me to look at old pictures and realize how slender I really was. I have a long way to go, but I am so proud of where I have already progressed. I have so much meat on my body, and I think it makes me look sooo much better. My legs are not sticks anymore, and this white girl finally has a DONK. My arms are becoming ginormous and my shoulders are not just skin and bone anymore. My abs are chunkier; my face has filled out. My collarbone is definitely not as prominent. 

I remember thinking that skinny was pretty. But as I saw more and more pictures of fit, muscular woman, my definition of beauty has significantly changed. Truth be told, I think ALL women are beautiful. I prefer the muscular look but some people don't, and that's perfectly fine. I know I have a long way to go before I achieve my dream physique, but at 16 I've already made a huge head start and will get there at a younger age than when most women even start their journey.

The past few months have been filled with eating more than I could possibly imagine, and not always feeling comfortable with it. But you know what? Being comfortable doesn't get me results. I had to leap outside of my comfort zone to change myself, and become healthier. 

Do I have my days where I feel like a fat lard rolled in shreds of grossness and triple dipped in disgust? HECK YES. But then I wake up on a different day, look at my progress and think "DAYUM. What's up sexy?! How YOU doin'?!" 

The point is, not every day will be your best. Not every workout will be your best. Not everything you consume will be in your best judgment. But everything counts. I can truly say that lifting weights is my ultimate passion, and one I am not willing to ever give up. It's how I clear my mind, and when I am having a craptastic day it's where I turn to for comfort. The room containing intimidating scratched and taunting iron is the place I call home.

I'm on a roll. I have goals for myself. I'm chipping away at my goals each and everyday. I eat well to get me closer to my goals. I lift heavy to get me closer to my goals. I do what I can to make sure I achieve the goals I foreshadow in my mind, but at the same time I'm living my life like a regular teenager: going out with friends, eating a few too many cookies at once, and enjoying my time being this age. YOLO.

Don't let people tell you that you can't get to where you want to be. I can't tell you how many times I've been called anorexic, too skinny/thin/slender/bony/gross-looking, etc. Wayyyy too many times to count. I've been told straight up that I won't ever get the 'gross muscle' that I want. Guess what (excuse my French) bitchezzz?! I'm already getting there.

It's been a year already since I started, and my whole life is ahead to continue. I can't FREAKIN' wait. :)

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