Calling truth to the lies.
It was an ordinary day, and I wasn’t expecting anything significant when my mom texted me a photo. A random discovery. The picture? Me, pitching softball in middle school.
I paused to look at it. I was mid-pitch, side profile, and completely in my element. I was tall—about 5'8"—and thin. Strong. Focused. Capable. And do you know what my immediate reaction was?
Anger.
Not at my mom, of course, but at everything and everyone who ever convinced me to believe something different about myself. At the voices that labeled me as fat. As a moose. At the kids at school, the offhand comments from family members, and even the culture that made me feel like I wasn’t enough because of the size or shape of my body.
I was staring at undeniable proof that none of it was true. And yet, those labels had shaped me—not just for years, but for decades.
A Stolen Truth
That photo hit me like a punch to the gut because it was a glaring reminder of something I’d been robbed of: a carefree childhood.
Looking back, I don’t remember running around the softball field feeling proud of my athleticism or celebrating what my body could do. Instead, I remember feeling hyper-aware of what my body looked like. I carried that burden—the weight of lies other people placed on me—when I should’ve been focused on the game.
I believed the lies they told me. I let them take root. And because of that, I spent years—decades, even—fighting an invisible war with myself, convinced that my body wasn’t good enough.
The Lies We’re Told
If I’m being completely honest, I haven’t shaken all of those lies yet. They linger. They show up when I look in the mirror or really in my mind on days where I’m really tired.
But here’s the thing: those lies aren’t just mine. They’re ours. Because somewhere along the way, almost every girl or woman I know has been told a lie about her body. That she’s too big or too small. That her arms should look different. That her thighs aren’t okay the way they are. That her worth is tied to a number on a scale or a size on a tag.
And you know what? It’s all a load of shit.
Here’s What I’m Doing About It
That photo reminded me of something important: while I can’t change the past, I can reclaim my power moving forward. And even more than that, I can empower you to take back yours.
Here’s the truth I want every Gen Z and Millennial girl, athlete, and human to hear: Do not believe the lies they say about you.
You are more than the number on a scale.
You are more than the label in your clothes.
Comparison is the thief of joy. And the only way to stop it from stealing more of our time, happiness, and energy is to refuse to buy into it anymore.
A Reminder for the Present
So here’s what I want you to do the next time you catch yourself spiraling into self-doubt:
Look at what your body does, not just how it looks.
Can you run? Dance? Pitch a softball? Hug your friends? Your body is amazing for what it allows you to experience and accomplish.Stop comparing your journey to anyone else’s.
No two bodies are the same, and no two paths are identical. Embrace your own.Call out the lies.
When someone makes an unkind or uninformed comment about your body, recognize it for what it is: their issue, not yours.
The Power of Truth
The truth is, I lost years of my life believing lies about myself. But here’s the beautiful thing about truth: it can break the cycle. And while I can’t go back and give middle-school-me the carefree childhood she deserved, I can choose to live differently now.
And so can you.
Whether you’re an athlete, a student, or just trying to figure out who you are in this messy, complicated world, remember this: You are more than their labels. You are more than their opinions. You are enough.
Take it from me: don’t waste another minute doubting yourself. Don’t give anyone else the power to define your worth. Take back your story, rewrite the lies, and live in the truth of how strong, capable, and incredible you truly are.
Because, GRLs, you’re worth it. Every single bit of it. 💛
