I was always a tomboy. I always wanted to be around the boys

When Young M.A declared, “I was always a tomboy. I always wanted to be around the boys, always wanted to play sports—basketball, football, kickball, whatever it was. I was real aggressive. I wanted to be around the bros!” she was not simply describing her childhood, but testifying to the fire that shaped her character. These words are the echo of a spirit unwilling to be confined by expectation, a soul that chose competition, movement, and raw authenticity over the restraints that the world might place upon her. In her confession, there is both rebellion and freedom, for she reveals that true identity is carved by desire, not dictated by tradition.

The origin of this quote lies in Young M.A’s journey from a Brooklyn childhood to becoming a powerful voice in music and culture. Surrounded by environments where toughness was survival and authenticity was everything, she embraced the energy of sports as a proving ground. In playing with the boys, in demanding her place among them, she was training not only her body, but her will. Her “aggressiveness” was not mere roughness, but determination: the refusal to be less, the refusal to sit quietly on the sidelines.

History has always honored those who defied the boundaries placed upon them. Joan of Arc, clad in armor, chose the battlefield instead of the hearth, proving her faith in action. Billie Jean King, stepping onto the tennis court, shattered the illusion that women could not compete on equal ground. Just as Young M.A sought to be “around the bros,” these figures sought to stand among men as equals—not to mimic, but to prove that strength and courage know no gender. Her words carry this same fire, linking her story to a timeless current of women who broke through walls of expectation.

Her declaration also speaks to the power of belonging. By insisting on playing with the boys, she was demanding inclusion, not waiting for it. She reveals a truth: that those who long for greatness must sometimes insert themselves into spaces where they are not expected, or even welcomed. The sports fields of her youth were more than games—they were training grounds for confidence, resilience, and self-belief. In every kickball match or football play, she was learning how to face challenges head-on, a skill that later fueled her rise in music.

There is also wisdom in her embrace of aggression. Too often, society paints aggression as destructive, but here it is harnessed for growth, for courage, for carving space in a world that might otherwise deny it. This is not aggression that destroys, but aggression that builds—a passionate energy that drives one to break barriers, to demand respect, to live without apology. Her words remind us that passion, when disciplined, is the forge of identity.

The lesson for us is clear: do not wait for permission to be yourself. If your heart pulls you toward the field, the stage, the craft, or the dream—run to it, even if it defies expectation. Surround yourself with those who challenge you, who sharpen you, and do not be afraid of being “aggressive” in pursuit of your place. Life will not hand you belonging; it must be claimed.

So let us remember Young M.A’s cry: “I wanted to be around the bros!” Hear it not merely as a memory, but as a summons—to live boldly, to refuse the cages of stereotype, and to find strength in the company of those who push us to grow. For in breaking free of expectation, we discover the truest form of freedom: the right to live as we are, with all the fire, energy, and authenticity that burns within us.