Zero F*cks to Give

Embracing Imperfection and Strength

While collecting images of myself for a website, I realized I didn’t have any gym photos. So I called up photographer Tina Krohn to take some shots. I’ll be honest—this wasn’t my comfort zone. Usually, I prefer to take photos when I’m in show-day shape: leaned out, muscles striated, every line in sharp relief. But this time was different. 

I’d recently stepped back from a scheduled series of bodybuilding competitions. The stress of losing my job, along with the changes of perimenopause, was weighing heavily. My coach and I agreed that more time would serve me better for the next spring season. So when I met up with Tina for the shoot at a Gold’s Gym, I knew I wasn’t in show-day shape, but I went ahead. When the photos came back, I was floored—I’ve aged.

But here’s the thing: I loved the photos. As a woman nearing 50, my body now tells a story—of years of work, of resilience, and of life well-lived.

Letting Go of Perfection

The skin shows wrinkles. Freckles and sunspots are there, and my abs, while visible, aren’t a board, either. There’s some belly. I’m strong. I’m well-fed. I eat to fuel my body for strength, not for a false idea of perfection. 

Our bodies are, by their nature, personal, intimate, and private. It doesn’t come naturally for me to show it off, especially as someone who is transitioning from print media to a very digital, very image-focused, relentlessly rah-rah space, which Mikala Jamison artfully alludes to in her newsletter, Body Type. I’ve spent years battling the societal pressures we all feel: thinness as an ideal, youth as the pinnacle of beauty. But these constant narratives need to be broken, and I’d like to move the needle in some way.

The truth is, strength isn’t exclusive to youth. Sports, fitness, and vitality don’t end at 25. This version of me, the one with visible signs of life and experience, is my favorite yet. I’m not perfect—and that’s exactly what makes me interesting.

Redefining Strength and Aging

What drew me to bodybuilding in the first place wasn’t the pursuit of thinness. It was the work, the pride in the visible effort. The lines, the curves, the definition—all of it more compelling than mere flatness. And aging has its own power.

By 2030, one in five Americans will be 65 or older; this growing demographic is driving change across the consumer landscape, one that has long favored youth. Contributions among those ages 50 and up are valued at over $8 trillion and funding for menopause-related startups reached $230 million last year, up 22 percent. In fact, menopause was all anybody talked about at the recent HLTH healthcare mega-conference I attended. 

These economic shifts reflect a truth: That age is not something to fix or hide. Aging is something to honor.

Owning Our Stories

This version of myself, this body, carries the weight of real life: birthing and raising children, experiencing both joy and suffering, achieving success, and overcoming hardships. And that’s what makes it powerful.

It’s why I love these photos—not despite the imperfections, but because of them. They show someone who is unapologetically herself. A woman who has lived, loved, and worked hard. 

That, to me, is strength.