The Resistance to Getting Bigger

On muscle, business growth, and why what feels safe can quietly limit expansion.

At my last show, the judges told me I need more muscle in my lower body if I want to be more competitive.

More glutes. More hamstrings. More density.

It wasn’t negative feedback. It was accurate.

But it means something very specific: I can’t stay as lean as I was and build what they’re asking for at the same time.

Last week, my coach said something similar. She told me I wasn’t putting weight back on quickly enough post-show. At 12 weeks out, I was leaner than she wanted me to be — and at this point, that was actually inhibiting my growth.

That was hard to hear.

Not because I don’t know how to eat more. I do. But because it showed me I was still holding on — to the tightness, to the control, to the identity of being “lean.” And unintentionally, that grip was limiting the very thing I say I want.

So now I’m intentionally entering a build season.

In the gym, that means lifting heavier, eating in a surplus, and accepting that the scale will go up. If you want more muscle, you have to give your body enough energy to build it. Some of that weight will be muscle. Some will be fat. That’s the process.

And if I’m honest, I feel resistance.

I worked hard to get lean. I like how I feel when I’m lean — disciplined, clear, in control. There’s something stabilizing about knowing I can tighten things up if I want to.

There’s also something about being lean that feels safer. When you’re smaller and tighter, you don’t take up as much space. You don’t attract as much commentary. You don’t invite as much scrutiny. Building physically means being seen differently. It means allowing your body to change publicly. That brings up more than I expected.

At the same time, I’m trying to grow my clinic.

I want it to be financially sustainable. I want to build a team aligned with the mission. I don’t want everything resting solely on me.

But I feel a similar hesitation there.

The last time I expanded, it didn’t go well. Having staff taxed my nervous system. I felt taken advantage of and hurt. I overextended myself trying to hold everything together. Growing a business also means more visibility — more revenue, more responsibility, more room for criticism. That part scares me too.

The other night, after listening to me process this, Adam said, “It sounds like you want to get bigger, but you keep saying you don’t want to actually get bigger.”

He wasn’t wrong.

In both my body and my business, I’m confronting the same pattern. I say I want growth, but I also want to preserve the version of safety I’ve built. Staying lean feels controlled. Keeping the business contained feels manageable.

But my coach’s comment made something clear: what feels safe can quietly cap growth.

Maybe build season isn’t just about calories and programming.

Maybe it’s about learning how to expand without tightening up around it.

I’m still figuring out what that looks like — but I know staying exactly where I am ain’t it.