She’s Buff, She’s Bold, She’s Breaking the Mold — The Rise of the Strong Woman

I’ll admit it: I nearly choked on my tea (Earl Grey, no sugar) when I saw a man comment under a female rugby player’s photo, “She’s not bulky — she’s just strong.” Just strong? As if strength is an apology, a disclaimer, a reassurance that she hasn’t gone “too far.” That single word — just — sums up the double standard women have been served for decades. We’ve been told to be careful, to lift but not too heavy, to tone but not “bulk,” to chase strength only in a way that looks aesthetically pleasing for someone else.

But the tide is turning, and it’s glorious.

Last weekend, the England women’s rugby team didn’t just lift a trophy; they lifted a narrative. Their win at the Rugby World Cup in front of a roaring Twickenham crowd wasn’t about looking pretty in sportswear. It was about being relentless, strategic, and strong in a way that makes men clutch their pints nervously. And they’re not alone. Across the Atlantic, Ilona Maher has become a household name and social media phenomenon, and on Instagram and TikTok, fitness influencers are ditching the tiny-waist aesthetic for flexed quads, broad shoulders, and unapologetic biceps.

The rise of the strong woman is here — and the next generation of girls is watching.

When the Roses Roared

The England women’s rugby team, the Red Roses, stormed to victory over Canada in a 33-13 World Cup final at Twickenham. This was their third world title, but this one felt different. It wasn’t just about sport. It was about visibility, representation, and rewriting what strength looks like in the public imagination.

Eighty-one thousand fans packed the stadium — a record crowd that shouted down anyone who still believes women’s rugby is “niche.” Fullback Ellie Kildunne summed it up perfectly when she said she hoped their triumph would show young girls “the route to being a world champion.” That’s the heart of it: this win wasn’t just for the players on the field, but for the girls watching from living rooms and school gyms across the country.

Because let’s be honest: until recently, the role models girls were given weren’t women lifting trophies, they were women lifting diet shakes. They weren’t women breaking tackles, they were women breaking their backs to stay slim. The Roses changed that on Saturday. They showed girls that their bodies are not just ornaments. They are engines.

Ilona Maher: Beauty, Beast, Brains

If the Roses represent collective power, Ilona Maher embodies individual defiance. An American rugby star and Olympian, Maher has built a platform of over a million followers with her unapologetic mix of athleticism, humour, and honesty. Her tagline — Beauty, Beast, Brains — says it all.

Maher has become a counter-cultural figure because she refuses to dilute herself. She posts her bruises and her sweat alongside her lip gloss. She shows her thighs flexing under heavy squats as easily as she shows her teammates goofing around. She is strength without apology, visibility without shame, influence without shrinking.

And here’s the crucial thing: girls are listening. Instead of scrolling past airbrushed influencers peddling diet teas, they’re double-tapping a woman who deadlifts, who tackles, who says “bulk is beautiful.” Ilona isn’t a one-off — she’s part of a wave. But she’s also proof that women who embrace strength can thrive in spaces that once punished them for being “too much.”

Strong, Not Small: Why This Shift Matters

This cultural pivot matters because it dismantles an old narrative that has kept women small — literally and figuratively. For decades, the messaging was:

• Be beautiful, not bulky.

• Take up less space, not more.

• Be soft, not strong.

• Be pleasing, not powerful.

These weren’t harmless suggestions. They were cages. Girls learned early that their bodies were for looking at, not for using. That strength was threatening. That if they grew too big, too loud, too capable, they’d cross an invisible line into “unfeminine.”

But when girls see the Red Roses packing out Twickenham, when they see Ilona Maher flexing unapologetically online, when they see Instagram feeds filled with women proudly showing quads, delts, and calloused hands — those cages crack.

The next generation of girls grows up believing strength isn’t a compromise on femininity; it’s a definition of it.

The Rise of Buff Women Online

And let’s not underestimate the role of social media in this revolution. Once upon a time, “fitness influencer” meant thigh gaps and juice cleanses. Now? It means powerlifting totals, rugby highlights, and women saying, “Yes, I can squat your boyfriend.”

The hashtags tell the story: #StrongNotSkinny, #GirlsWhoLift, #MuscleIsBeautiful.

What used to be whispered as warnings — “Careful, don’t get too bulky” — is now screamed with pride. Women are reclaiming the very words that were used against them.

This isn’t to say the thin ideal is gone; far from it. But it no longer has a monopoly. Girls scrolling today see multiple templates for womanhood, and more and more of those templates come with quads of steel.

The Work Still to Do

Of course, we’re not done. Misogyny is resilient. Even now, media coverage often frames women athletes as “surprisingly attractive” or praises them for not looking “too muscular.” Fitness marketing still tries to sell “tone” as the palatable version of strength. And let’s be real — plenty of women themselves have internalised the fear of looking “too strong.”

But we chip away at it every time we celebrate a woman’s PB rather than her dress size. Every time we cheer a try rather than a thigh gap. Every time a girl grows up knowing her body is an instrument, not an ornament.

Why the Next Generation Wins

The most exciting part of this shift? The ripple effect. Girls today are growing up in a world where:

• Role models lift trophies, not just lip gloss wands.
• Social feeds are filled with flexing, lifting, and running — not just dieting.
• Strength is aspirational, not shameful.

That means when a teenage girl thinks about what she can become, she sees more options than ever before. She can be strong. She can be bold. She can take up space. And nobody — no coach, no man in the gym, no Instagram comment section — gets to take that away.

Your Turn

So let’s bring this back to you.

What images of strength did you grow up with — or not see? Which strong woman inspires you most right now? And how do we, as a collective, dismantle the fear of women taking up space — physically, socially, culturally?

The rise of the strong woman isn’t a trend. It’s a reckoning. And honestly? It’s about time.