Brazilian Baddie Lifting

     At the end of July 2022, after a trip to Chicago and a discussion with a friend about my promising future in the world of fitness, I began strength training, but like for real this time. Sure, I had gone to the gym for years before, but having known nothing about strength training and being irrationally afraid of picking up a dumbbell in front of incredibly fit men and women, I was nothing more than a certified cardio bunny.

     For about a year before I began taking strength training seriously, I had been taunting myself by awing at the first fitness influencer I ever stumbled across on Instagram. Cristy Ann, who recently competed professionally, was my primary source of inspiration to get my butt in the gym! Her posts made strength training less scary and more comprehensible for me as a beginner who knew absolutely nothing. Following her workouts were manageable, doable, and I was seeing different results from anything I had done previously. Following her page helped me get on the ground running. The better I got at romanian deadlifts, bulgarian split squats, lateral pull downs, and rows on the machine and with free weights amongst tens of other exercises, the more passionate I became. That is when I began taking my diet more seriously and learned more in-depth about bulking and cutting. Dirty bulking was probably my most favorite revelation about the fitness world. You mean to tell me that I can eat essentially whatever I want as long as I burn the calories with weights?! And by doing that I'll grow crazy muscle?! I couldn't have been sold faster. That was my July 2022. Eating and training, eating and training. The weekly results had me addicted, and it quickly became all I was posting about online. People took notice, and with attention can come calumniators and gossipers.

     After some weeks of dealing with people having everything under the sun to say except for, "Wow, great job! You inspire me," I came up with the name that entitles this page and my fitness brand. Don't get me wrong, I had sweet messages gracing my inbox too that only fueled my drive to excel more, but it was the naysayers that really kept me smiling. For starters, genetics will always play a factor, no matter how hard you train x, y, or z muscle. Being Brazilian, like, del campo Brazilian with an Afro-Brazilian grandmother and ancestry, my glutes, since I was literally a child, have always stuck out more than on average. I was a super active kid too -- bike-riding, climbing trees, running around -- all activities that had my legs working overtime, which only sprouted my glutes.

     Fast-forward, and throughout my pre-teen and teen years, I couldn't have guessed that Brazilian butt lifts would become the new beauty standard just some years later. But because they were becoming the ideal for women, playing eye-spy the BBL became a lot of people's favorite game to play. Everyone was talking about Kim Kardashian and a couple of her sisters, who most iconically (and allegedly) had work done to give them that Brazilian butt, wider hips, and smaller waist. I do remember in high school though, some mean girls making wise cracks about girls with butts and that by the time they're in their old-age, it'll sag and look funny. Jealousy makes people say some ridiculous and rather rude things that stick with people for years.

     Once I started posting my body, it didn't take long for those same girls to come around and watch my account like vultures circling their dinner. It didn't take long either for some family members to make snide remarks to my face about my body. Who would've thought being in-shape would garner just as egregious comments as out-of-shape people usually deal with? I , but I never would've guessed, but I learned my lesson pretty fast.

     When my own family member made a passive aggressive remark about my butt and that I must've gotten surgery, it switched a flip in my brain. Up until July 2022, I had been struggling heavily with anxiety, which in turn had me struggling to eat. Going into 2021, I had lost over 20 pounds and was considered underweight according to my BMI. I sustained that low weight for many more months, until an amazing light in the form of a friend came into my life. We spent so much time together; she made me feel so comfortable to just be myself, and we often went out to eat all around the valley of the sun, that my anxiety just melted away. I was getting my appetite back little by little. She even ended up telling me that when she first met me, she was concerned for me because I was so bony and skinny, but she didn't know how to approach that tender topic at the time. So instead of talking, she brought me out of my comfort zone and fed me the valley's best food. Now, do you think this cousin was there for me during any of that time? Aware of any of the hardships I endured? I don't need to answer that one; take a wild guess. Through all of this, I learned that overcoming a physical challenge first requires overcoming the prerequisite mental battles.

     I'll never forget the day I was in the bathroom and a photo recommendation notification popped up on my phone. It read, "one year ago today". I clicked on the notification, and a photo of me posing in the mirror, with my body positioned sideways, appeared. I was so thin, I was almost unnoticable in front of the wall. If I had been wearing white clothes, I would've blended in. It took me all but two seconds to break into tears. I stared at that photo, then stared at myself in the mirror, and continued to cry. I fell to my knees; I was distraught. When I had lost all that weight, I never was able to see what I truly looked like. My body dysmorphia tricked my brain into seeing my condition as normal, like I had lost no weight at all -- until that day one year later, when it all became clear. Memories of all the hardships and mental battles I faced the year before came flooding back, causing me to sob incessantly. I called my mom and gave her my testimony. She began to cry with me on the phone, as she herself had seen her daughter wither away. I was crying tears of sadness as much as I was joy.

     So, when my family member made that BBL comment, it sparked a fire in me like never before. I know she is just one of the many people I will encounter in my life who think they know what they're talking about, but can never be bothered to ask the questions so that they actually do know what they're talking about. That alone gave me drive like never before. Why? Because they knew nothing about what I had been through (yet I realized it wouldn't have made a difference if she had). I pulled myself out of that pit, and I gave myself mental freedom and clarity to overcome my physical weaknesses: me. Not them, not a stranger, no one else did that, but me. The lesson I learned is that while it takes a village, the only person who can water the grass to be greener is ourselves. We can have that village behind us, championing us to be better, but if we ourselves do not do the work, that village's efforts will go to waste.

     So, I decided to take my power back by turning her words into a positive. When I was deciding what I wanted to call my fitness page, I knew it had to do with my identity. Those three letters kept circling around in my head: BBL, BBL, BBL. I began thinking of what acroynyms, other than Brazilian butt lift, I could make out of those letters. And that's when I came up with:

BRAZILIAN BADDIE LIFTING.

     Welcome!