Do girls like muscular guys?

These questions always amuse me—probably because they remind me of a much younger version of myself.

To preface (and give credibility to what I am about to share), this is me:

(I apologize to those that have seen this before. It always feels like a new story every time I tell it.)

When I was the skinny kid on the left, I wanted so badly to be the shredded guy on the right. In my mind, I held that image and forced myself to go to the gym, hoping one day, one day, the dream would manifest itself.

My original intention was simple: I just wanted people to like me. I wanted girls to want to go out with me. I wanted guys to respect me. I wasn’t so much interested in being the center of attention. I just wanted what was fair, and what I think every human being wants—a little validation, and a sense of self worth.

The photo on the left was taken when I was ~15 years old. The photo on the right was taken when I was ~24.

By the time I actually became that person on the right, what people thought of me didn’t matter. And not only did it not matter, but it actually made me realize how the entire process had been solely for my benefit, and had very little impact on whether or not women were attracted to me.

I can tell you from first hand experience that when I really started to put on size and have a “shredded” physique, my body actually worked to my detriment. Everywhere I went, people assumed I was this alpha male asshole who only cared about going to the gym and drinking protein shakes, had no heart, went out with dumb blonde girls, and probably did poorly in school. I was the complete opposite of that. I was extremely quiet, hated talking about myself, never went out to parties, stayed inside on weekends to read or write or make music in my apartment, and then spent 3 hours in the gym every night with a bunch of awesome dudes—who were everything from medical students to personal trainers to youth mentors and beyond. But because I had veins popping out of my forearms, people found all that hard to imagine.

With girls, it was even worse. I would finally (finally!) convince myself to go out to the bar one night with some friends, and I’d attract all the wrong girls. I’d attract the surface level ones, the ones who would spot me from across the room, find some excuse to “bump” into our group by the bar, and then wrap their hands around my bicep and say, “Wow! It’s so big!” thinking this would catch my interest. It didn’t.

When I would finally find a girl that intrigued me, it was an uphill battle. The best example I have of this is my girlfriend in college—the only girl I legitimately “dated.” She was a 6 foot tall runway model studying abroad from Costa Rica. We met in science class. Except she wore non-revealing clothes, baggy sweaters and things like that, but didn’t wear makeup and had beautiful green eyes. One day after class I asked if she wanted to get together one night and hang out. We ended up dating for almost a year.

However, and this is the point I want to make, my physique was a constant point of contention. She would say things like, “I don’t look like those fitness model girls if that’s what you’re attracted to.” I wasn’t attracted to that, and I told her—and this was coming from a girl who had perfect, long legs, and in a blue summer dress looked as beautiful as an entire garden in bloom. I told her she was exactly what I was looking for. She loved to read. She would stay up late with me as I’d edit my novel in progress. We would talk about poetry, and watch documentaries, and on occasion she’d come to the gym with me and I’d go to yoga with her. I told her, time and time again, that I was at a point where the reason I loved lifting was because of how it made me feel, and the escape it allowed me to destress from the rest of my life. I didn’t care about dating a female fitness model, or even becoming one myself. I enjoyed sharing fitness tips with people on my Instagram page, and that’s about it. The rest of me just enjoyed the process.

I think we argued about her not resembling a female fitness model until the very end of our relationship (which ended for a different reason). It became clear to me that she felt very, very insecure around me—and truthfully, she wasn’t the only one. Other girls I attempted to date after her practically said it outright as soon as we started going out. My physique made them feel insecure about their own bodies, regardless of anything I did or said. Guys too, ones that I wanted to befriend out of shared interests, would take a while to open up or feel comfortable around me because I seemed “intimidating.”

In the end, the very thing I wanted for acceptance ended up being the thing that put a barrier between me and most people. Now, did it also benefit me? Yes, of course. It’s fun to have a great physique and feel great, no doubt. But I’ve found that 8 times out 10 it also gives people a very different impression than who I am deep down. That doesn’t mean I’m going to give up lifting, which I love. It’s just something to be aware of.

Here’s the truth of it: If your intention is to “get shredded” because you want to attract the ladies, you are going to fail. You just are. You won’t make it, I promise you. You’ll give up. You won’t make it through 2–3 hour lifts and 5–7 meals a day for years on end with the sole hope that a slightly hotter girl is going to pay attention to you. That’s enough to get you started, but that’s not enough to carry you through.

The reason I actually was able to end up with the “final product” I did was because I genuinely loved to lift. I loved getting in tune with my body. I loved the discipline it taught me. I loved the friends I made and the experiences I had, far more than I loved any amount of validation any one person gave me.

If you want to learn how to go from “Skinny to Shredded,” click here. I’m happy to teach you exactly how I did it.

But I’ll also tell you that you will only get there if you want it for yourself, and nobody else.

author : 

nicolascole