Why Big Girls Who Use Their Strength Win Basketball Games

A courtside reminder that girls who stop apologizing for their strength often change the entire game.

I spent most of yesterday sitting courtside at basketball games.

Three of them, actually.

And when you sit that close for that long, you start to notice things that you might miss if you were just watching the scoreboard or cheering for one team or another. The game slows down a little. You start to see patterns — little moments that quietly shift everything.

Yesterday the pattern was pretty clear.

The difference makers were the big girls.

Not just the tall ones. Not just the ones who happened to be under the basket.

The ones who really owned their size and their strength.

You could see it in the way they boxed out. Not politely. Not halfway. They moved people. They sealed defenders and held their space like they meant it. When the ball went into the post, they didn’t fade away from contact — they leaned into it. When they caught the ball at the high post, they slowed the whole game down and started directing traffic like they had the whole thing mapped out in their head.

They were conducting the game.

And the thing that struck me was that there were other players on the court with the exact same physical tools. Same height. Same strength. Same ability to take up space.

But they didn’t.

They floated around the edges. They slipped away from contact. They avoided the kind of physical play that actually opens up the game for everyone else.

Sitting there, I kept thinking about how often girls are quietly taught to pull back from the very thing that makes them powerful.

To not be too aggressive.

To not be too physical.

To not be too much.

Watching those games also brought back a memory I hadn’t thought about in a long time.

When I was playing, being a big girl on the court was confusing.

On one hand, the game demanded that I use my size. Coaches wanted rebounding. They wanted physical defense. They wanted someone who could hold space in the paint.

But the feedback you get as a young girl when you’re physical doesn’t always match what the game requires.

When I pushed someone out on a box out, I heard about it.

Girls would get frustrated with me. Sometimes they’d say things. Sometimes it was the looks or the tone or the little comments that made it clear they didn’t like playing against me that way.

And when it was your own teammates?

That part was even harder.

Instead of my strength being something we talked about as a team advantage or something to build around, it often felt like something I needed to dial down. Like I was doing it wrong. Like I was being too much.

So I adjusted.

I toned it down.

There were moments — especially in practice — when I didn’t play as strong or as hard as I could have. Not because I didn’t have it in me, but because I didn’t feel like I fully belonged in the version of the game that required it.

When you’re young, belonging matters more than almost anything else.

If the message you receive is that your strength makes people uncomfortable, the easiest thing to do is soften it.

Shrink it a little.

Play smaller than you actually are.

Looking back now, I understand something I didn’t have the words for then.

My strength wasn’t the problem.

The environment just didn’t know what to do with it yet.

And that’s part of why watching those games yesterday meant more to me than just good basketball.

Because the girls who changed the game weren’t apologizing for their strength.

They were using it.

They boxed out hard. They held their space. They ran the high post and directed the offense like they belonged there — because they did.

They understood something the game rewards every single time.

Basketball doesn’t reward shrinking.

It rewards presence.

When a player really owns that, the whole rhythm of the game changes. Their teammates feel it. The defense feels it. Everyone does.

Watching those games yesterday reminded me how powerful it is when girls stop apologizing for their strength.

Because when a girl learns how to take up space on a basketball court, something bigger is happening than just a rebound or a good post move.

She’s learning what it feels like to trust her own presence.

To understand that the things that might make her feel “too big” in other spaces are actually the exact things that make her valuable here.

Strong legs. Strong shoulders. A willingness to hold ground.

Those are not things to shrink from.

They’re tools.

And when girls learn how to use them — really use them — they become the kind of players who quietly change the game.

The difference makers.

And honestly, the world could use a few more girls who understand that taking up space isn’t something to apologize for.

It’s something to grow into.

Girls who play become women who lead.

For athletes and leaders becoming who they are —
real, not perfect.