I am NOT oppressed!

I wasn’t going to do it.

I wasn’t going to make a blog post about my thoughts on women and feminism and all that is wrong with the female of 2017.

BUT, here I am.

I can’t scroll through and see another vagina head holding a sign that says “no uterus, no opinion” or “some day I hope I have the same rights as guns” …are there ANY brains in those pretty skulls?

This fight you’re fighting, did it all stem from Trump openly admitting he wants to do what so many other want to?

Does the word pussy really piss you off, or are you just looking for something to complain about?

As a Daddy’s girl I was brought up a bit of a tomboy. I was always around the guys and learning “guy things”…my Dad isn’t a mechanic or woodworker or horse trainer or anything like that, though…those things I took initiative to learn on my own.

I have NEVER once in my life looked at something I wanted to learn or do and thought “well, I sure wish I could do that…but I can’t because I’m a girl.” …does this thought REALLY go through peoples heads?

Okay, sit down…because I have some news for you! We aren’t equal…

We aren’t equal because we aren’t supposed to be equal! We will never be equal because we are different beings! What’s going to happen when men get pissed off that they can’t bear children, hmm?

Here’s what I know.

As a woman who has turned plenty of wrenches, been aback more horses than you’d care to count, spent countless hours in the oilfield and is now a personal trainer, I don’t feel fucking oppressed.

Oppression is prolonged cruel or unjust treatment or control.

I am not oppressed.





Yes, I understand that it is harder for women to get jobs in a male-rich industry like construction or the oilfield, or even the corporate place…but you know what, if it’s worth it to you you’ll work for it. If your dream job is to be a tool pusher for a rig in Alaska, work your ass off and prove yourself. No man will tell you no if you outwork him just once.

Here’s my suggestion to young women, and young mothers, and people who just don’t understand that there are no handouts…

Instead of being and raising girls who are afraid of men, and feel like inferior victims…we raise these young women, and ourselves, to be confident self-sustaining badasses?

Learn yourself and teach others to keep a home in every way, from cleaning to maintenance! You CAN fix your own sink or replace your own door, you can grow your own food and mow your own lawn. Learn and teach others to raise children and cook,  and to respect and protect themselves. Learn and teach the others that they aren’t victims, or inferior because they were born with a  uterus. Don’t you dare put that bullshit in their heads! Fill them with confidence, worth and self love!

If you can learn to be independent and self sustaining this world wouldn’t scare you so much. If you could confidently protect yourself you wouldn’t be worried about the plethora of pussy-entitled dirtbags roaming our great nation. If you could just stop worrying about what society wants from you as a woman and just do what it is that makes you happy, you’d be a lot happier…as would the rest of the world.

As a strong, independent, self-loving, worthy, free, gun loving, wrench turning, iron slinging, tattooed, oil field working, yoga doing, classy but foul mouthed, boot wearing woman I will support you as a woman. I support the fact that you are standing up for something you believe in, even if I don’t agree with you…

…and that’s what makes me different.

I have always been my own person.

I have always made my own path…and I will continue to fight my own fight for women like me who aren’t feeling like hopeless victims.

Some of us will stand tall together and build an empire, alongside the great men of this country…but not all of us can handle that.

Become the fire.





Ha! I Win!

I often feel like I repeat myself in these self improvement blogs…

“I used to be really overweight and hated my body…”

“I have actually always hated my body, and I don’t even know why…”

“I went through some really rough times and found myself using alcohol and food as an unsuccessful coping mechanism…”

I guess maybe I do repeat them because they’re relevant to where I am, who I am and why I am doing what I’m doing.

At 13 years old in the 7th grade all I wanted to do was be a cheerleader. I had no interest in any other sports, but for some reason I just really wanted to cheer. Maybe it’s because making others smile, getting them excited and supporting them is what’s hard stamped in my DNA…who knows, but I wanted it.

…this should be the part where I tell you I tried out, got the spot and cheered throughout school; or maybe where I didn’t make it and kept trying until I got it, but it’s not.

I never tried out. I, at 13 years old, thought I was too big to be a cheerleader.

Before Facebook, and Instagram…before the #fitfam was a thing…back in the day when 17 Magazine was all that existed for young girls to compare to, I genuinely believed I was too big to cheer. I don’t know that I ever thought of myself as “fat” per say, but up until a few months ago I always thought I was huge. Like, I felt like I took up a lot of space…

It wasn’t until my wonderful boyfriend held his arms out in front of him one day and said “Look, THIS is how big you are…this is where my arms touch when I hug you!” that I realized how incredibly ‘small’ I actually was, that was a tiny circle. However, I still saw a great big girl in the mirror …over the past year I have fought hard to change my perception of myself, and it’s finally worked. With constant self improvement, positive self talk and a lot of love and support from the best man in the world, it’s finally worked.

It REALLY clicked for me when I received an email from a friend and new client a couple weeks ago. I’ve looked up to her killer physique since I met her! I was noting her starting measurements when I realized we are almost the exact same size! I was baffled, blown away, dumbfounded…I had NEVER thought I could possibly be the same size as her!

Then…it finally happened. When I went to the gym for the first time last week I saw little ole me in the mirror. I didn’t see “great big unhealthy me” …I saw every change, every new visible muscle, every vein that used to be hidden…


This was the first time I’d seen this girl staring back at me…the first time I actually just saw me for what I am. It was a proud moment, a relief that I’d finally overcome that altered image…that I was finally winning this battle!


I no longer struggle to fit in my clothes, I no longer feel like I take up so much space, I no longer see that “bigger” version of me. I see the hard work, the dedication, the years of struggles and the triumphs; the obstacles I’ve overcome and everything that’s brought me here.  I have a positive view on the next steps of my journey, and am proud to finally be healthy.

I’m finally winning this battle with myself, after all in the end it is just you vs. you ….