Becoming a Bodybuilder at 50 Showed Me That Women Were Never Meant to be Thin

This summer I’ll step onstage to compete as a professional athlete for the first time—at 50. I’ll wear a fuchsia bikini small enough to fit in a Ziplock bag, pose and flex in clear heels, and strike a smile while my muscles glisten under layers of spray tan.

I’m a bodybuilder. This is my third season competing, but my first as a pro.

I came to the sport six years ago, after a string of losses—the death of my father, the end of my marriage, and a spiral into depression and alcohol.