This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at UCD chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.
When I first started going to the gym, it was not so that I could be stronger or feel better mentally—it was because I was so insecure about my body. I suffered from body dysmorphia and was fixated on changing the way I looked, especially with growing out my butt. I had plenty of anxiety and self-doubt at this time. I overanalyzed every social interaction, and I constantly compared myself to everyone else. I felt stuck in my own body, like I wasn’t supposed to be there, and I wished the gym could be an environment that I could even temporarily escape that feeling from for an hour a day.
At first, all I cared about was how my body looked. I kept an eye on all things physical and obsessed over progress photos. I thought if I just looked a certain way, my insecurity and confidence issues would all disappear. But something peculiar started to happen. My goals had begun to change. I realized that I felt strongest not when I appeared a particular way, but when I accomplished something I didn’t know I could. Breaking a new personal best, making it through a challenging workout, or merely getting out the door on hard days became more satisfying than any physical transformation.
Over time, I stopped exercising just to sculpt my body and started doing it to strengthen my mind. The gym helped me cope with my stress and gave me a sense of control when everything else felt like a giant blur. It was my reset button—an hour of my life where I could focus on myself without judgment or pressure. The more I trained, the more my mindset changed. I no longer beat my body up; I treated it with respect. I no longer felt as though I had to look a certain way to be accepted—I only wanted to feel strong, confident, and healthy.
Eventually, the mirror lost its hold on me as a measure of success. Instead, I paid attention to how much more confident I had become in my body. I started noticing how I stood differently within myself: how I spoke up more, how I smiled more, and how I stood more firmly in who I was. The gym was not about becoming hot anymore—it was about becoming me. A more confident, present, and empowered me.
Yes, I still care about how I look—there’s nothing wrong with having aesthetic goals—but it is no longer why I wake up to hit the gym. I work out because it feels good in my brain. I train my body because I want to keep it, not fix it. And most of all, I found that real confidence does not come from what others see from you—it results from how you see and treat yourself. And for me, that transformation started the day I stopped chasing the mirror and started chasing strength.