I grew up in a martial arts gym surrounded by men and boys, and I

Hear the words of Katheryn Winnick, warrior of both screen and spirit, who declared: “I grew up in a martial arts gym surrounded by men and boys, and I pretty much call myself a tomboy.” Though spoken simply, these words bear the weight of discipline, resilience, and identity. They tell of a childhood forged in struggle, where strength was tested not in idle play but in the ring of sweat, will, and perseverance. They reveal the shaping of a soul who, in the midst of challenge, chose not fragility but power, not conformity but authenticity.

The origin of this truth is found in Winnick’s upbringing. From her earliest years, she was immersed in the world of martial arts, a realm where respect, control, and courage are born. Unlike many who are raised in softer environments, she trained her body to endure, her mind to focus, and her spirit to persist. Surrounded by men and boys, she learned not to shrink back but to stand tall, meeting their strength with her own. Her self-proclaimed identity as a tomboy was not rebellion, but recognition: she belonged to the world of action, grit, and fearlessness.

The ancients, too, honored such shaping of character through discipline. The Spartans placed their youth in the agoge, where boys were tested by hunger, pain, and combat, learning that the body is a vessel of the soul and must be sharpened like steel. Yet Winnick’s path reveals a deeper truth: this training is not reserved for men alone. Women, too, can walk the road of strength, and by doing so, they prove that courage knows no gender. The martial arts gym becomes her agoge, the place where she was molded into a fighter of both flesh and spirit.

History also bears witness in the story of Joan of Arc. Surrounded by soldiers, she stepped into the world of men with armor and sword, guided not by fear but by faith and fire. Though she was young and a woman in a time that scorned female warriors, she endured, leading armies and inspiring nations. Like Winnick, she too might have been called a “tomboy” in the language of her day, but in truth, she was more: a living symbol that the strength to rise above expectation belongs to anyone willing to embrace courage.

The meaning of Winnick’s words is thus both personal and universal. They reveal that identity is not shaped by what society expects, but by the environments and challenges that mold us. To grow among men and boys in a world of combat could have bred insecurity or surrender, but instead it bred confidence, self-reliance, and authenticity. She claimed her space, not by imitating others, but by becoming fully herself—a woman who could fight, endure, and stand equal.

The lesson for us is clear: do not fear being different if difference is the path to strength. The world may call you names, it may press labels like “tomboy” upon you, but these can become banners of pride rather than chains of shame. What matters is not fitting the mold, but forging your spirit through discipline, courage, and truth. In the end, the labels fade, but the strength you gain remains eternal.

Practical actions follow this wisdom. Seek out training that challenges you, whether of body, mind, or spirit. Do not retreat when surrounded by those stronger than you; instead, use their presence to sharpen your own edge. Embrace what makes you different, for in difference lies uniqueness and power. Above all, carry discipline into all aspects of life, for the lessons of the martial arts gym—focus, humility, respect, endurance—are lessons that make warriors not only in combat, but in every struggle of existence.

Thus, Katheryn Winnick’s words endure as more than a reflection of childhood—they are a call to all who feel out of place, all who live in the margins of expectation. Remember: to be forged in challenge is a blessing, to be labeled as different can be a crown, and to embrace strength in all its forms is the path of those destined to rise above.