I’ve never been good at sports. People used to make fun of me because I would run funny. I played softball for 5 years during grade school and never made a home run. I was always the kid that got stuck out in right field. I remember standing out there, the hot sun scorching my back through my shirt feeling very removed from the game. I used to stare at the shortstop wishing I was her. Nothing ever got by her. She had an arm like a rifle and she could hit the ball just as well. I watched her throw the ball to first base, the ball hit the 1st baseman’s glove with so much force you knew it caused a sting.
“OUT!” the umpire yelled.
I wasn’t happy we made an out. I was just happy the ball didn’t come my way.
I was a tomboy for sure, hating dresses or anything too “girlie”. But how can you be a good tomboy when you’re afraid of the ball and too embarrassed to run in public? So I lived my life outside of extracurricular activities once softball ended. I got into the wrong crowd in junior high and was quickly introduced to the world peer pressure. I lived my life trying to please other people. And when people didn’t like me, I was devastated.
I got through all of that (so I thought), graduated from college, started a great career, adopted a beautiful little girl, found a wonderful husband and finally felt like the person I had always wanted to be. Except for something was missing. My family made me so happy, but depending on other people for your happiness is far from healthy and extremely risky. I felt like a house of cards waiting for that small burst of wind to knock me down.
Then you came along. I knew you were too good for me the first time I saw you. I tried to like you, but I honestly didn’t. I was sure I had made a huge mistake bringing you into my life. I had been through so much and waited so long to get you, it made me feel guilty. I tried to buy you pretty accessories to keep you happy, but the truth was, I was afraid of you.
I ignored you all winter, and decided to try to work on myself alone so that maybe I would feel deserving of you for the following summer. Once May came around, I forced myself to take you out even if it was just a little bit at a time. I knew you could move a lot faster and farther than my body was willing. There were times when you had to walk with me up hills (and I know a stronger person could have flown up them with you) because my legs were just too tired and weak. But you stuck with me through it all.
Then one hot morning towards the end of June, I opened up the door, feeling around in the dark for the button to open the garage. As the door squeaked open, and the sun slowly woke up the dark, I saw you leaning against the wall, looking bored. I pulled you out and put you in the back of the car determined to ignore my fear and meet some people for a long ride. That day we went places I would have never dared to go before. I saw things I had never seen before even though I have driven by them hundreds of times. We went fast and we went up hills that I previously would have avoided. Not because I was ignoring my fears, but because I wasn’t afraid.
As we neared the end of the ride, I separated from the group to head towards my car. I came to a stop-light, unclipped my left foot and stretched my leg out to the ground. The steamy breath from the freshly tarred street made my already sunburned leg even hotter. The sunscreen stung my eyes as I watched a bead of sweat drop from my shoulder and run down to the crease of my arm. And it was at that stop light, in the middle of a 4 lane road with cars surrounding me, no make-up on and a grease mark from my bike chain on the side of my calf that I realized something. I felt strong, powerful and more beautiful than I had ever felt in my entire life.
When we finally got back to the car, I didn’t want to stop. I could have kept on for at least 20 more miles, I’m sure of it. The muscles in my face were sore the next day from smiling so much.
Thank you for turning me into the person I’ve always wanted to be.
