Yes—YOU Are a Role Model!

There’s a disorienting moment in adulthood that many women experience. You catch yourself speaking to your body the exact way someone once spoke to theirs. You hear it in the mirror, at the dinner table, during workouts, or in the way you apologize for resting, celebrate exhaustion, and call yourself “good” for eating less. 

And suddenly you realize: most women did not inherit their relationship with themselves from science—they inherited it from observation. Long before we understood hormones, training methods, or wellness culture, we were learning from the role models around us what being a “woman” was supposed to mean. 

A Complicated Lineage 

My mother was incredibly disciplined around health and nutrition. She was careful, informed, and intentional in ways many women were not at the time. But despite all that, I still watched her criticize herself, catching her in moments of disappointment where she did not fully see herself as strong or beautiful. And before her, there was my grandmother, who grew up being criticized by her own mother for things as insignificant as the size of her ears, which she was told were “too big.” Alongside that came the constant pressure many women of her generation carried around thinness, appearance, and being visually acceptable. 

Three generations of women, all intelligent, all capable, all carrying some version of the belief that a woman’s body was something to correct. And whether we realize it or not, girls and younger women are always watching their elders and absorbing what they see. That’s why I believe the future of women’s fitness is not really about aesthetics—it’s about identity, and about what girls learn by watching women live inside their bodies.

As an IFBB Pro, I have spent years studying the physical side of transformation. But motherhood changed the emotional meaning of fitness for me entirely. Now I have a little girl watching. And she’s not just learning whether movement matters; she’s learning how a woman speaks to herself. Does she nourish her body and rest properly? Does she take up space unapologetically? Does she treat herself like someone worthy of care? Or does she constantly criticize her body? 

In reality, a daughter watching her mother move through life is learning far more than healthy habits. She’s learning what womanhood feels like.

A Strong Link (Literally)

Research consistently shows that girls who grow up physically active often experience higher self-esteem, greater emotional resilience, stronger body confidence, and improved mental health later in life. But what fascinates me most is that science now shows maternal influence goes even deeper than behavior alone. 

Children inherit mitochondrial DNA exclusively from their mother. Mitochondria are essentially the energy systems of the body, responsible for how efficiently muscles produce energy, regulate endurance, and support metabolism, and due to this, recent studies suggest aerobic capacity, muscular endurance, and aspects of athletic potential are strongly influenced through the maternal line. Research also shows maternal genetics significantly influence muscle development in the arms and legs as well as overall musculoskeletal development, particularly earlier in life. In other words, a mother’s physiology contributes directly to aspects of how her children build, carry, and utilize muscle. 

Maternal health during pregnancy also affects how a child develops skeletal muscle mass, metabolic function, and future insulin sensitivity. Researchers now understand that a mother’s stress levels, movement patterns, nutrition, and metabolic health can influence gene expression in her children through epigenetic changes long before a child ever enters a gym. And once born, girls who grow up around people confidently performing movements often carry themselves differently, because movement teaches something psychologically powerful: capability.

“Girls are always watching women for permission.”

Generational Influences

Ironically, some of my earliest role models were not women who embodied fragility, despite it being the ’90s supermodel era. Instead, the women I looked up to embodied strength. 

I remember watching Demi Moore in G.I. Jane, Linda Hamilton in The Terminator, and loving bodybuilder Cory Everson, probably in part because of my younger brother. These women had strong shoulders, muscle, presence, and confidence. At the time, I didn’t fully understand why those images affected me so deeply. Now I do. Strength was not making women less feminine. Instead, I saw women whose bodies were unapologetic, who looked capable in the face of anything—and that changed something in me. 

That day changed both of us. She wasn’t just watching weight move; she was watching a woman she loved becoming powerful without apologizing for trusting herself. And it made me realize something: girls are always watching women for permission. Permission to be strong, to be visible, to stop shrinking themselves. In that moment, I realized strength was no longer just something I was building for me. It had become part of what I was passing down.

Raising Them Right

Our language carries identity patterns that, like muscle, are built through repetition. Today, girls are growing up in an era of constant comparison, hyper-editing, aesthetic pressure, and impossible beauty standards. They don’t need more pressure to become visually acceptable; they need examples of women who are grounded in themselves, who move confidently, who nourish themselves, who are emotionally regulated, and who are not constantly trying to disappear. Visible female strength changes girls. There’s something profoundly healing about growing up surrounded by women who are fully alive inside their body instead of at war with it. And even for women who don’t have daughters, this conversation still matters deeply, as most women are also carrying the memory of the little girl they once were—the one who learned to criticize her body before she ever learned to appreciate it. 

This is why becoming stronger is not just about future generations; it can be about finally becoming the example we once needed ourselves. I think the future of women’s fitness will belong to women who understand this and who also understand that strength is not just physical. It’s emotional, psychological, and even generational. Somewhere, a little girl is watching—and sometimes, she’s a version of us still living deep inside. 

Written by Brie Turner, IFBB Pro, Certified Master Trainer, Nutritionist, Fitness Wear Designer

Photo by Paul Buceta   

Hair and Makeup by Cherry Villanos