When I was younger, I played a lot of soccer and I really, really loved it. However, I wasn't terribly good at it. Except for goal-tending. I was a pretty brilliant goaltender, and that I honestly believe was because I could fall on purpose and people would cheer. Soccer was a huge part of my growing up. I breathed it. I would wake up early on Saturday morning, when the local sports channel would play soccer matches first thing in the morning, you know, when no one was really watching. I dreamed, that one day, I would be as good as them. I wanted to be athletic.
But here's the thing about me; Grace has never a word anyone would use to describe me. I'm a natural born klutz. My feet, I'm certain, discuss ways to kill me while I sleep. I have twisted my ankle more times than I can count now. I have pulled muscles, and had concussions. I have fallen down stairs so much that now my husband and his family consistently poke fun of my inability to go down stairs. I poke fun at me too, I mean, I have fallen down stairs so many times, that I have a legit fear of them.
I wish I was kidding.
When I was younger, I wanted to be that girl who could move from one sport to the next with no thought. When I tried basketball, I couldn't figure out how to throw the ball with my wrist, so I would chuck it over my head and hope for the best. When I tried out for track, I made it onto the hurdles team, only to crash into the second hurdle at Zones. I did gymnastics until I was eleven years old, and stopped because the coaches wouldn't really let me do anything too intense; I couldn't figure out why they wouldn't let me on the big balance beam. Now, I thank them. It was, now that I think of it, pretty hilarious.
They say when you can't have something, you just want it more. So as I grew into the short, chubbier girl who loved words, weird music and all things theatrical, I still wished to be what I wasn't. I didn't see the cool part of being the girl who could tell you she read thirty books during the summer, or the girl who could memorize lines and turn it into a living art form. I wanted to be athletic. .
At almost 30, you'd think I'd embraced who I am. Nope, I still pathetically wish I was better at sports. I am still green with envy over those who can make any sport look easy and thoughtless. I still have that teenage girl in me who is desperate to be something that she is not.
As part of my 30 by 30 Bucket List, I offered to play on my Mother In Law's curling team. When I offered, I sort of hoped she would find someone else. I sort of hoped she would be that mean mother in law who would say, "Yeah right", (she's not that person at all). And then I found myself on a curling team.
Which means to say, I found myself, on a sheet of ice, with a slippery shoe, some rocks, and my big old klutzy fat ass. What in the ever loving fuck was I thinking, you ask? Well, I was thinking it would be great to be so so awesome at curling, and maybe The Hubby, who curled in high school would think I was wicked awesome, and we'd go on to be the best ever curling team, and I'd be the best ever curler...
Some dreams never die.
Tonight, as I sat on the sidelines, after I smashed my knee on the ice, I chuckled to myself. There I was, with my scarf, and my skinny jeans, hipster glasses, adorned with piercings, thinking I was the curling type. So maybe, I could be the curling type, it's only my first season. Yet, in that moment, I knew, when I came home, I would write some of these words, because they floated into my head as I watched the rest of the game play on without me.
I am still that mousy girl, who enjoys watching people, and then joining in. I'm the girl who hates competition. I'm still the girl who would rather curl up with a good book than go out on a Saturday night. I'm still the girl who gets chills when she sees an amazing theatre performance. I'm still the girl who can make words join together in such a graceful way that sometimes it's hard to believe I actually wrote them. I am still as klutzy as I was when I was 16 and that will likely never change. That's just who I am.
And I'm beginning to embrace her, because she may fall over her own two feet, and she may end up with bruises from walking into walls, or hitting herself with some inanimate object, but she's still pretty kick ass. She has this brain that can make the mundane into something almost musical, she sees the world in a different way, and she'll never likely be good at sports.
But I like that she still wants to try. I guess I'm sort of fearless that way.
And that trait alone? That makes me pretty awesome.