The Real Girl Power of Female Bodybuilding



Beyond the blinged-out bikinis and lucite heels, a female bodybuilder (and girly girl) has a message for the mainstream media: The frail and starved are being replaced by the fit and powerful.




I’m sure plenty of people were shocked when they first saw the Serbian bodybuilder, Jelena Abbou, flexing fiercely in M.A.C.’s Strength ad campaign. I wasn’t one of them. Bulging biceps under a ball gown? Welcome to my world. I’m a professional bodybuilder—and a girly girl.

As my colleagues in the International Federation of BodyBuilding & Fitness pro league sometimes say, "I don’t sweat; I sparkle." I love manicures and makeup, but there’s a decent chance I’d be able to beat your boyfriend in an arm wrestling match.

Girls who look like Jelena and me have a message for the mainstream media: The frail and starved are being replaced by the fit and powerful, even if strides like the M.A.C. ad are happening little by little. I’m tired of skinny (probably hungry) girls being used to define femininity. Our culture wants to beat obesity and anorexia? So, believe, like I do, that strong is beautiful.

I started lifting heavy-ass weights four years ago, in part so I could carry all of my groceries up the stairs of my walk-up apartment in New York. But the real reason I’m a bodybuilder today is frustration. l was your standard cardio-crazed calorie counter—torturing myself on the elliptical and eating a rocky diet of bagels for breakfast, pizza for lunch, and carrots for dinner. I would get thinner, but the overall pear shape of my body never really changed. I never felt truly toned.

I decided I was going to permanently transform my physique. I found a trainer whose body I wanted: She was shaped just like an “x”, with sexy, curvy legs, a tiny waist, strong shoulders, and defined arms. She taught me to drop the five-pound dumbbells and pick up heavier ones. I focused on training four times a week, isolating one muscle group at a time.

I completely changed my diet, eating more frequently and with more protein, choosing steak over pizza, cutting out sugar completely, and scaling down on alcohol dramatically (and sometimes, totally.) So you understand why endorphins are my everything...

Training led me to the competition circuit, which means 5 a.m. cardio sessions before my 9 to 5 job in pharmaceutical sales, and post-work lifting, more cardio, and practicing my poses, including the Model Turn. I went pro in my third year of competing, and it felt like proof that I can do anything I believe to be true in the world.

Beyond the blinged-out bikinis, lucite stripper heels, and self-tanner, female bodybuilders are an example of the power of the human body—and real girl power. My competitors and I are very supportive of each other, because we know what kind of sacrifices we've all made and to be there. Sure, we’re all tired and ready to rip our fake eyelashes off and finally eat a cupcake, but there is a sense of pride that unites us all.

Still, it isn't all glamorous. I try my best to maintain a social life, but let’s be honest: Who wants to go out with someone who swears off alcohol and brings her own Ziplock bags of steamed tilapia wherever she goes? I was fortunate enough to maintain a supportive relationship for my first four years of competing, and my ex-boyfriend was very patient with the “hangry” (hungry and angry), super-ripped maniac blocking him from eating pizza in the kitchen. But eventually the lack of wine-and-fun filled date nights wore on our relationship. As the saying goes for competitors, I am married to the iron, at least for now.

I know a lot of guys are turned off by the possibility of me being able to squat more than them, but the truth is I’m turned off by them, too. My strength is empowering to me and not at all "mannish." I wouldn't trade in my muscles for anything, because they represent who I am—determined, proud, and female. Real men find that very attractive.

If you were jarred by your first glance at Jelena Abbou, look again. Consider that, as women, we’re continually trying to break out of the molds we’ve been taught to accept as beautiful.



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