From Survival to Strength
From Survival to Strength
Growing up, I wasn’t a strong kid - in fact, I was extremely skinny.
Not by choice, but because most foods didn’t sit well with me. I had a weak appetite and poor digestion, and many meals left me feeling worse instead of nourished. It was simply my body’s response to unknown allergies, stressful and anxiety-inducing environments, and circumstances beyond my control that I couldn’t understand at the time.
But one thing brought me to life: netball.
When I joined the school netball team at eight years old, it was the first place I wasn’t compared to my sister. The court became my escape - the only part of school I actually looked forward to. I tried other sports, but nothing made me feel more me than netball. It was my spark, my safe space.
Still, like in many South Asian homes, sports weren’t considered important - especially not for girls. Academics always came first. Strength, fitness, athleticism… none of it was ever nurtured, and often dismissed entirely.
One day, something unexpected happened: our school announced the first-ever netball captains, and both my sister and I were chosen for our age groups. I was so proud - I even finished all my food during the school break, which was rare for me.
When I shared the news at home, the response wasn’t what I expected. Concerns were raised about how other parents might perceive the decision, and a call was made to the coach to reconsider. My coach, however, reassured that it was a team decision and that they truly believed I had earned the role. I remember sitting there, confused - unsure how something so exciting had suddenly become complicated. That was the first time I felt a flicker of imposter syndrome. I knew I had worked hard for it, yet part of me began to wonder if I really belonged.
A few years later, I was named Best Shooter for our age group, and my name appeared in the local newspaper. At the school library, I was handed the paper and told it featured my sister - a small moment that reminded me how easy it was for my own achievements to be overlooked.
Over time, I found myself drawn to athletics. I wanted to try middle-distance races and see what my body could do. On one occasion, while browsing sports equipment for training, my request for ankle weights was met with ridicule and hesitation. I walked away feeling as though my interest in something new wasn’t being taken seriously. But not long after, I was appointed School Athletics Captain.
Even with these milestones, moments of doubt from others still appeared. At our final sports meet, I turned up for a relay I had trained for, only to discover my name had been replaced on the team list. It was the only event I had that day, The sting was sharper than I could have imagined - not just from being left out, but from the silence of people I thought were my friends. Having my partner and another friend there for support meant everything. In that moment, I learned a lesson about friendship and how deeply people can underestimate you when they’ve already made up their minds.
In another mixed netball–basketball event, I played shooter and most of my shots landed. A compliment from a basketball player from the opposing team was quickly brushed off as “kana shots” (lucky shots). I began noticing a pattern - no matter how well I performed, there always seemed to be a reason to downplay it.
At an interhouse swimming meet, I overheard someone doubting whether I could even swim. That same day, I won multiple events - a quiet reminder to myself that others’ assumptions don’t define my abilities.
These are just a few examples of the many comments I've received that were meant to discourage me - and I’m sure many of us face moments like this, because criticism is unfortunately an inevitable part of life. Looking back, I’ve come to see these moments for what they were. Not personal attacks - but reflections of other people’s insecurities. These experiences taught me a valuable lesson: you can’t control what people say, but you can control whether or not you believe it.
People will try to downplay your wins, especially when they see something in you that they haven’t yet found in themselves. But their opinion is not your reality.
I grew up in a home where I constantly felt like I had to shrink myself - emotionally, mentally, and physically. I walked on eggshells for most of my childhood. I was just counting the days until I could leave.
When I moved to Australia in 2019, my life shifted. I got to finally explore who I am rather than simply following my sisters footsteps. I stepped into a gym for the first time - something I never imagined I’d do. Growing up, I believed the gym was for guys. That’s what I was conditioned to believe. Girls weren’t supposed to lift weights or build muscle.
But my partner gently challenged those beliefs. He was patient. Supportive. He taught me the basics and gave me the confidence to begin. I weighed just 43kg at the time, and for the first time in my life, I wanted to get stronger - not to look a certain way, but to feel powerful in my body.
As I changed how I ate and trained, I started to gain healthy weight. I built muscle. And for the first time ever, I saw my body as something to care for, not criticize.
When COVID hit in 2020, gym training became a regular part of our lives. I began to fall in love with movement - not just for the physical benefits, but for what it did for my mind. It gave me structure, strength, clarity, and peace.
In 2021, I joined my university’s indoor netball team and later represented them at intervarsity netball games. I also ran my first 10km run - something I never thought I’d be capable of.
But life had one more curveball in store.
During our 2022 netball finals, we were leading by a huge margin. I sprinted to defend the ball when I slipped on the turf. My ankle twisted. My knee hyperextended. And then - I heard it. My femur snapped.
The pain was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Later scans confirmed it was a freak accident - my bone density was excellent sitting at 1.3 g/cm³, but the force of the fall was just too much.
Rehabilitation was slow and humbling. I had to relearn how to walk. I couldn’t move the way I used to. But that experience taught me something I hadn’t fully grasped before:
Movement is a privilege.
And I would never take it for granted again.
Since I was forced to take it easy with my lower body training. I took it as an opportunity to focus more on my upper body. That’s when I discovered calisthenics and really got into pull-ups, dips, and eventually weighted dips, push-ups, and even clap push-ups. Watching my partner do effortless weighted pull-ups and muscle-ups sparked my curiosity and motivation to train harder.
Over time, my legs healed fully, and the following year, I managed to complete a 5km run. I trained more intentionally than ever. I focused on mobility, recovery, and long-term health. My legs became stronger. So did my mindset.
As a South Asian woman, I know how rare it is to be encouraged to be strong. We’re taught to shrink ourselves from the day we were born - to be quiet, gentle, small. Fitness is still seen by many as something masculine, inappropriate, or unnecessary for girls.
But strength isn’t about gender. It’s a quality that lives within every human being. It’s not just in the muscles - it’s in the choices we make, the wounds we heal, and the respect we hold for ourselves.
That’s why I created this space.
A safe space for girls who have been overlooked, dismissed, or told they aren’t enough. Girls who were expected to serve before dreaming. Girls whose paths have been blurred by comparison.
This is a place to reclaim your power. To nourish your body, mind, and soul. To move not just for change on the outside, but for healing from within.
This journey isn’t about perfection or fitting into anyone else’s mold. It’s about embracing who you are - whole, powerful, and deserving. Building a life and body that reflect your truth, not someone else’s expectations.
If you’ve ever doubted your place, felt not good enough, or believed you had to prove your value through perfection, I want you to hear this:
You are enough - right now, just as you are. Your worth is not measured by others’ opinions or your achievements.
All that matters is showing up for yourself, every day, and choosing progress over perfection.
Movement saved me. It transformed me. And I believe it can do the same for you.
I’m here to walk beside you, every step of the way!
With you, always - Jana ♡