Have you ever been told you “throw like a girl”?
I’ve probably only heard it directed at me once or twice.
But I’ve heard it said about others countless times—usually as a joke, or worse, as an insult. It was one of those phrases people just threw around without thinking, but the message behind it was clear: Being like a girl meant being weak.
Growing up, I wasn’t really the athletic type. I played street games with friends, but not the kind of sports that required brute strength. My sport growing up was swimming.
So when I tried to play volleyball in high school… let’s just say sports really weren’t my thing.
But you know what? That never meant I was weak. Just because a woman isn’t athletic doesn’t make her any less strong. Strength shows up in so many forms—on and off the court.
I may not have powerful arms, but I’m strong-willed. I’m stubborn in the best way. I don’t back down easily when faced with challenges. Just like when I joined Toastmasters, a public speaking club, and self-consciousness was my greatest fear. That’s strength, too.
For the longest time, I believed that “throwing like a girl” was something to be embarrassed about since I didn’t have the greatest record in sports, and especially, because that’s what society taught us to believe.
It’s funny how such a simple phrase can carry so much weight—meant to belittle and meant to shame. But this past month, during Women’s History Month, I found myself standing in front of a Toastmasters audience, proudly delivering a speech titled exactly that: Throw Like a Girl.
Because why not?
As I said in my speech, “What does throwing poorly have anything to do with being a girl or a woman? Why does ‘throwing like a girl’ have to mean throwing weakly?”
I delivered this speech twice—once in my club, and another time during a Toastmasters contest where I wasn’t competing but was invited to be the test speaker. My role was to give a speech that evaluation contestants would critique.
But as I stood there, I wasn’t thinking about evaluations at all.
I was thinking about every girl who’s ever been told she wasn’t strong enough, smart enough, or brave enough.
I was thinking about her.
About me.
About us.
For Cassidy Jo—and Every Girl After Her
I was thinking about my 1-year-old daughter, Cassidy Jo.
Even as a toddler, she’s fierce, confident, and rambunctious. She walks into a room like she owns it, laughs loudly, and speaks in her own little language without hesitation. And I want to keep it that way.
I don’t want her to grow up in a society that tells her she’s less because she’s a girl. That she should shrink to be liked or stay quiet to be accepted.
I want her to grow up knowing that throwing like a girl means throwing with heart, courage, and unshakable strength.
Because when we keep using the phrase “you throw like a girl” in a negative way, we’re sending a damaging message to young girls everywhere: that they are inherently weaker. And that is simply not true.
Little girls should never be made to believe that their gender makes them less capable.
Because it doesn’t. Not now. Not ever.
And if anyone still needs proof, just take a look at the women who are out there throwing like a girl—and owning it.
Just like Serena Williams.
Like Simone Biles.
Like Malala Yousafzai.
Like Kelsey Plum.
And like Hidilyn Diaz—the first-ever Olympic gold medalist for the Philippines, who lifted the hopes of an entire nation along with those barbells.
Now that’s throwing like a girl.
I am a full-blooded Filipino—and I’m proud of my heritage. It makes me even more honored to share a message that empowers women not just around the world, but also from where I come from.
Because strength has no borders.
And neither does pride.
It’s Not Just Our Fight
As I shared my speech, I saw faces in the audience soften. One of our members—a father of four daughters—told me afterward that he wished his girls could’ve heard it. Another member, a coach for a girls’ volleyball team, said he wanted to show it to his players before a tournament.
In that moment, I realized: this wasn’t just a speech.
It was a message.
A movement.
A mindset shift waiting to happen.
What touched me even more was that it didn’t just resonate with women—it moved everyone in the room. Men were just as inspired, because they know and love women in their lives—mothers, daughters, sisters, friends.
It reminded me that this isn’t just our fight. Empowering women is a collective mission. Seeing the audience embrace the redefined phrase as a statement of strength gave me hope.
It was comforting.
It was powerful.
It showed me that our society is starting to shift. There is hope.
Slowly but surely, we’re unlearning the old and making room for something new—something better. A world where strength isn’t confined by gender.
A Look Back at Toastmasters
Before the contest even began, conversations buzzed around the room. One topic that stood out was Toastmasters’ own journey toward inclusivity. I was surprised to learn that, prior to 1973, women weren’t even allowed to join the organization.
In fact, according to my research, Helen Blanchard—who later became Toastmasters’ first female International President—initially joined under the pseudonym “Homer” in 1970, just to get in the door.
Imagine the struggles she had to go through just to be heard—just to be allowed in the room.
The decision in 1973 to finally allow women into Toastmasters was a game changer. It didn’t just give women a platform to speak. It helped them find their voices—and realize that they are just as powerful and impactful.
And now, decades later, here we are.
Still evolving.
Still growing.
Still reclaiming our space.
Keep Owning It
The audience’s warm response to Throw Like a Girl tells me that this message is starting to land.
That we’re finally redefining what strength looks like.
And it’s about time.
So the next time someone says you “throw like a girl,”
Don’t flinch.
Smile.
Stand tall.
And say:
“Damn right I do. I throw like a girl—and I wouldn’t have it any other way!”
Because throwing like a girl means showing up with courage, leading with heart, and never backing down. It means embracing your power, your voice, your fire.
It’s not an insult.
It’s a compliment.
It’s a badge of honor.
And if we keep owning it, saying it, and living it—
We’re not just changing a phrase.
We’re changing the world.
💬 Let’s Talk!
Have you ever been told you “throw like a girl”? Or have you witnessed a woman in your life break barriers and defy expectations?
Share your story in the comments below—whether it’s about your journey, someone who inspires you, or how you’re redefining strength in your own way.
Let’s celebrate each other and keep the conversation going.
