What powerlifting taught me about writing and building stronger brands 💪🏾
As a child, my toys of choice were pencils and pens. My parents weren’t the Barbie-buying type, so I made do by naming the pens, giving them personalities, and building entire imaginary worlds around them. Eventually, I put those stories down on paper and that’s how it all started.
I filled journals with poems and intricate plots, often narrating scenes out loud like I was hosting my own radio show. Writing was my outlet. A way to escape the noise, especially for a self-proclaimed, misunderstood, shy girl who preferred staying on the stoop, lost in Harry Potter books and her own imagination.
Writing wasn’t just something I liked. It was how I processed the world and how I made sense of who I was becoming.
So it was no surprise that at my alma mater, Barnard College, I majored in English and Africana Studies — balancing literary theory and creative writing with the kind of personal truths that lived in my journals. Around that time, I began to pair writing with wellness. I ran through Riverside Park any chance I got, sometimes all the way to the Meatpacking District and back up past Grant’s Tomb. I even found a massive stone besides the running path that became my go-to meditation spot.
From ages 18-21: Writing. Running. Reading. Walking. That was my rhythm. That was my way back to myself when I found myself lost in the troubles of early adulthood.
After graduating college, that rhythm followed me into the professional world — from Goldman Sachs to Morgan Stanley, and then to Columbia Journalism School. I earned my master’s while working full-time as a digital marketing writer at Morgan Stanley, balancing work responsibilties with the need to cover my beat on health equity. I learned how to write with urgency and purpose, and how to tell stories that didn’t just sound good but also meant something.
Then came the pandemic. And then, the barbell.
Living in New York, juggling grad school and a full-time job, I found myself spiraling. Depression crept in. I lost touch with the things that once grounded me: writing, movement, and intention. In trying to crawl back to myself, I started strength training. At first, it was casual. I joked that I just wanted to become a “muscle mami.” But beneath the surface, I was rebuilding.
By October 2024, after only a few years of training and diving into the world of gut health and the mind + body connection, I hired a powerlifting coach. Four months later, I stepped onto the platform at the USAPL Georgia State Championships in the 70kg weight class. I placed second, even after missing my third attempts on both bench and deadlift.
That meet humbled me. But it also lit a fire.
Because just like writing, powerlifting requires discipline. Patience. Precision. Reps that no one sees but that change everything. You can’t fake strength, and you can’t fake story. You have to earn both.
So why am I telling you all this on a website for my copywriting and content strategy business?
Because The Content Lift isn’t just about better copy.
It’s about clarity. Voice. Vision. It’s about showing up consistently and honestly; for yourself and your audience. It’s about helping people and brands grow stronger, more grounded, and more themselves on the page.
If you’re looking for:
Strategic copy that actually connects
A sharp editorial partner who understands nuance and voice
Someone who brings discipline, heart, and real-world experience to every project
Let’s work together.
Let’s lift your content with intention and with power.
Drop me a message and let’s build something meaningful.
