If you had told me ten years ago I’d be the kind of person who signed up for a bikini competition—on purpose—I probably would’ve laughed. Not because I didn’t love movement or pushing myself, but because the idea of competing in sparkles and heels while someone judged how “tight” or “toned” I was? That felt… not very me.
But in 2015, that’s exactly what I did. I was in this frustrating space where I knew what to do—clean up my eating, follow a lifting program—but I didn’t have a reason to follow through. When I finally accepted I wasn’t going to be a professional athlete of any kind (LOL), I realized I still needed something to train for. I needed structure, accountability, and a goal that felt big enough to commit to. So, I signed up for my first bikini competition.
I started with the OCB, a natural bodybuilding organization, and did two shows. I didn’t place. I wasn’t thrilled with the physique I brought. But I kept going. After moving to Colorado, I switched to the NPC—a more competitive federation—and did four more shows. I placed top 5 in my class at three of them, which was cool, but honestly, the best part was realizing how much I’d learned in the process.
It wasn’t just about getting stage lean. It was about learning how to build a body from the ground up. I started to truly understand how nutrition works in relation to training—not just “eating healthy,” but fueling with purpose. I paid attention to meal timing, macro balance, recovery, and how to align all of that with my training phases. That structure—those fundamentals of bodybuilding—are what really shaped my approach to fitness, both for myself and now for the people I coach.
Bodybuilding gave me discipline, but also curiosity. I became obsessed (in the best way) with biomechanics—how the body moves, how to move better, and how small changes in form or tempo can completely change how a lift feels and works. That kind of detail-oriented thinking became second nature to me and has stayed at the core of how I train and coach today.
When I work with clients now, I’m not trying to turn anyone into a competitor (unless they want that). What I teach is how to train like someone who values progress, structure, and longevity. You don’t have to live in the gym, but you dohave to train smart. It’s about learning how to lift with intention, how to fuel your body so you’re not dragging through workouts, and how to be consistent—even when motivation disappears.
A lot of people hear “bodybuilding” and think extremes. But for me, it was never about chasing a perfect body. It was about showing up for myself and finally putting in the work in a way that felt real and sustainable. And now, that’s exactly what I help other people do: build strong, capable bodies through intentional movement and smart, supportive habits.
That’s how I found my way into fitness—no perfect plan, no straight path, just a real, personal journey. It wasn’t glamorous or flawless, and it definitely wasn’t linear. But it taught me how to take ownership of my health, how to respect the process, and most importantly—how good it feels to be strong, capable, and confident in your own skin. That’s the feeling I want others to experience. You don’t have to step on a stage to feel empowered by your own progress. My goal now is to help people tap into that same sense of strength—to feel proud of what their bodies can do, to understand how to train with intention, and to realize they’re more powerful than they’ve ever been told. Because once you feel that kind of strength, everything else starts to shift.
