There was a moment in my life
when i thought i needed something else.
I stepped away from the iron...
and walked into kickboxing.
I wasn't weak when i started.
I had muscle, presence, the look of someone who lived under weight.
But soon, i saw the truth:
All those guys in the gym
watching motivational videos of muscular men...
Dreaming to be like them.
But i had already built that.
And I gave it up?
That hit me harder than any punch.
Kickboxing is tough, a sport for real men.
Respect to everyone who fights.
But i realized something deep:
I don't need fists to make someone step back.
My presence is enough.
Strength speaks louder than punches.
Five months passed…
and i became smaller. Thinner.
I lost pieces of the monster i worked so hard to build.
And then i understood:
What you have is yours.
Don't drop it searching for something already in your hands.
I walked back into the gym.
Not as the same man... but smarter.
Now I know my path.
I choose the iron.
I choose the grind.
I choose me.
Because the first choice was always the right one.