Girls Don’t Have Those

by Becca Borowski, Modern Athena



     When I was growing up my friends would often remark on how soft my hands were. We would play clapping games or hold hands and someone would always compliment me on the texture of my skin. I took pride in it. Everybody likes to be the best at something.  Those days of soft hands have passed.

     I do my best to take care of my hands now, but not in the name of vanity or in search of compliments, rather so that they don’t rip apart during my workouts. My tender palms have been replaced with calluses and tough skin. I get sad when I don’t do pull ups for a while and my calluses fade. I get mad at myself when I forget to file the calluses down before a workout. I take a strange pride in how much my hands can withstand.

     The reactions I get from others has changed, too.  A few years ago I dated someone who didn’t do CrossFit. I was going through the stage where my hands were still toughening up. I was just learning to do pull ups without the rubber band, and my kip was still big and violent. My hands ripped a lot. I would show up at my boyfriend’s house with bandaged hands that I kept half curled up because I couldn’t straighten them without reopening the wounds.
“You don’t have those,” he would say and refuse to look at my palms or hold my hand. “Girls don’t have those.”

     My students frequently ask me how to prevent their hands from ripping. I give them the basics of hand care. We talk about clippers, pumice stones and Dremels.  “How long will they keep ripping for?” They all want to know.
And this is what I tell them: It’s a process and you will go through a period where it’s really challenging. Your hands will rip all the time even if you take care of them. Eventually you will come out on the other side. It’s as if your hands have to toughen up from the inside out and the surface is the last thing to fully change. When you reach that point, you’ll hardly ever tear them up again.

     Maybe that’s a bit like life. Maybe that’s how I got here, too — from the girl known for her softness to the hands I have today. Getting strong from the inside out.

     A couple years ago I was in a Tai Chi class with an instructor I hadn’t met before. As I moved through the sequence, I pressed my hands outward and the instructor walked by me at just that moment. He glanced at my palms. “Those hands have seen some hard work,” he said to me…and smiled.

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