Introspection
A Brawny Brand of Beautiful
Lessons learned while boldly embracing this body
“You’ve got those Michelle Obama arms!”
People love to yell that at me. In reality, my arms are more like Serena Williams’, and I wish they would just say that. I love me some Serena.
I grew up with boys ducking, slinking, and hiding from me in hallways, shouting about how they didn’t want to “get beat up” by the dude in girl’s clothing (wrong on so, so many levels). Nothing had grown in yet, of course, so I really was just a chiseled, thick little thing, proud of being a track-and-field athlete when I wasn’t sleeping or eating. I was and still am the spitting image of my mother, a personal trainer and former gymnast who spent her childhood in South America climbing trees with her five brothers.
Genes are a real thing. I’ve never, ever been able to outrun mine.
And run I did. There were more than a few moments where I resented my body shape. Sure, I’ve always been more comfortable in sports bras, Birkenstocks, and jorts than dresses, but I still felt somewhat frustrated that my femininity was…
