Why I Started Working Out (And Why I Never Stopped)
I was probably in sixth grade when I first started thinking about my body. One of my classmates was always teasing and bothering a girl. When I asked him why he gave her so much attention, he said: “Well, she has a good ass.”
“Well, she has a good ass.”
That answer didn’t shock me—I knew how teenage boys thought. But when I got home and looked in the mirror, I remember saying to myself: “Well, in my family there are no ass genetics… will no guy ever like me?”
That was the moment it all began.
At just 14, I decided I needed to work out—not for myself, but to get boys’ attention. I would go home, close my bedroom door, and do Pinterest workouts for 40 minutes straight. I had no idea what I was doing, but I was determined.
When my mom signed me up for a gym membership, I hated it. The stares from men felt intimidating, and yoga classes were boring to a teenager. I told her to let me train at home instead. With a couple of dumbbells and an obsession with Kendall Jenner’s abs, I threw myself into celebrity workout routines.
Then one day in PE class, my shirt lifted by mistake and my classmates saw my abs. Everyone was shocked. That week, we had a non-uniform day, and suddenly, boys were paying attention to me. But here’s the thing: it didn’t fulfill me.
That’s when things shifted.
I became stricter with food, eating less and less. My mom worried I was heading toward anorexia. At the time, I didn’t realize how unhealthy my habits were, but I never looked at that direction, I was just a teenage girl without proper guidance.
But somewhere along the way, working out stopped being about boys and started being about me. Movement made me feel empowered, strong, and capable. People no longer saw me just as “the hot girl”, I was running faster, playing harder, lifting heavier. And I loved being the strong girl at school!
There were setbacks. Overtraining and undereating led me to lose my period, and once again my mom grew worried. But as she always did, she gave me space to learn. With time, I found better information, healthier goals, and new methods. I began to fuel my body properly, and training became less about image and more about strength, energy, and self-love.
Now, years later, I don’t rely on motivation to move. I don’t train for anyone else’s approval. I do it because it’s part of who I am. Movement heals me. Strength reminds me I am capable. And it has become my mission that every woman finds her own way to move her energy.
What started as an external need has become the pillar of my well-being. And honestly, I wouldn’t change how it all began—because sometimes we need an external push to find our true path.
So, thank you, Pablo, for your teenage-boy comment—you unknowingly motivated me to start.
And to you, reading this: if you’re waiting for a little push, let this be it. Join this community. Start your own journey. Not for them,for you.
