I started working out in August 2017 when I felt that I wasnt confident in my own body. The way I walked, looked and seen myself at 70kg (155 lbs) carried onto my confidence and in turn the way I was treated by others. I always admired more muscular people and how they were content with themselves, or atleast compared to others in a sense.
Deep down I was a hater, like many non-lifters use to try and bring down bodybuilders that achieve something greater that seems impossible.
I had enough of being a harder and spoke to my close friend who is a competitor in the sport and he ran me down the entirety of the diet being 80%, the time under tension and heavy lifts and what-not.

Currently as of Jan 2018 writing this, I am 6 months into a bulk at 90kg (before sleep, 88.5 at wake). Plan on bulking until 100-110Kg then cutting weight.

Any bodybuilder already knows the stimulating feeling of seeing results- picking the same weight up that was once heavy before and smashing out easy reps. The intense pump when your legs cramp up from shocking them with squats... Almost passing out from your 1RM deadlift but still happy you surprisingly managed to get 3 reps.
To others, it could be considered barbaric moving weight around.
But to me (i speak for others as well), it is an art much less than a painting where we break down and feed our bodies continuously to finish with a refined end sculpture. But we are still not happy with how the result looks so we continue to do this and so the cycle never ends