Living in Fear...

Some of my earliest memories center around fear, so much so that I think aside from love, it was likely the next feeling or emotion I learned. It would be easy to point the finger at so many variables in my life, some to a greater or lesser extent. Logical assignments could go to my parents but that would be incorrect to label blame their way...each did their best to raise me for better or worse. The next logical cliff of blame would be the church, much like Catholicism they place great emphasis on the deeds of the person either leading to a positive or negative ending. The churches reach in my life appears never ending, but I believe the damage it has done in my life falls strictly on my shoulders for being born gay and unable to reconcile my two sides.

The only place of blame that readily comes to mind save it be those already mentioned, falls squarely on my emotional insecurities and allowing the crude head games and bullying I received to scar me for life. I don't wish to spend this entry working out the issues that my church and I have (I am afraid there will never be enough time), and certainly not any issues with my parents...this entry is dedicated to my fat ass self. The very self that has never accepted who she was because she was told that fatties don't count in life, that they are not valued, that they do not belong, that they deserve to be assaulted on the play ground, laughed at in classes, shoved into lockers and told over and over again that fat kids don't play sports. I was a very physical child growing up, always outside playing sports, running around, total "tom boy." But as I became aware that there was a difference between the skinny girl down the block and my fat ass...my physical self silently slipped away. With friends that accepted me I played volleyball, bowling, tennis, basketball and football...hardly worried about what I looked like fat flying everywhere, shirt and pants not neatly hanging on me. But with the rest of the world, I sat back silently content, resign to my fate that fat girls don't find love and they certainly don't play sports.

I have wandered this life feeling my soul longing to be physical, to break from the chains of bondage that all those insults and beatings tied me down with. I always felt...well, disjointed. Physically slower and lesser, but with a spirit that could keep up with life...that could hike, bike, boat and do what I always longed to do...play. I managed to keep my active self somewhat satisfied by coaching volleyball and basketball, managing teams in football and track...I could at the very least live that side of me through others. Years have passed, I got older and my body started to give up its once youthful spring. Now I can practically sneeze and pull a muscle. I fear that my inner-physical self has missed its chance to shine...and by extension, I have lost a significant part of who I could have become. I could have become someone who likes myself, dare I say even love myself.

Only recently have the two sides of myself created so much trouble, so much friction and kept me awake at night in deep contemplation. (it seems there are many sides of me...fat vs. physical, gay vs. Mormon) I tried learning how to skate when I was younger but spent more time on my fat ass than upright and easily quit after being teased both in and out of school for looking like a fool. Never did I think skating would be the instrument of change for me. I went to the first bout of the Rat City Rollergirls and found myself all but jumping into the fray...amazed at the talent of the women who skated before me. Some skinny, some medium, some bigger. There were fat girls doing things that I never knew possible...that I never realized was acceptable for "fatties." With that small taste, my life as I knew it stopped.

But did I dare even dream that I could ever be half as good as even the worst player? The first seed of thought was planted by Lacey Ramon's mom who told me that I could learn how to skate,"they all looked like Bambi on ice at first." The second seed was planted by Jamie Salazar who again encouraged me to do it regardless of how I looked or what I knew. Before I knew it, seeds were being planted by everyone that I was starting to know in derby...Pitchit (Derby Deeds), Viacorp, Ajah, Jackie, Jewanna, PFM, LeAnne, Lacey, Jamie, Keith, Suzanne, and Shalimar. But I know there are more who have made comments here and there to show their support. Yes, none of these people really know me, and no, they don't really know how fat I am or how uncoordinated I am...they don't care. I have no idea what that must feel like, to not care but support and encourage nonetheless. How incredibly freeing.

It was a sad thing when I told my mom that I wanted to learn how to skate to see if I could then learn to derby. She has never disapproved of something I wanted to do, so it came as a great surprise when she said no...then making a seemingly backhanded comment about waiting for the calls when I break my leg. I tried to push away my growing desire to learn how to skate hoping that I could someday be good enough to derby, after all if my mom didn't think I should do it...who was I to question?

I'm finding derby is like a rash...rink rash to be exact. You try your best to avoid it, but it smacks you upside the ass and spreads. I can't ignore my love for this sport, I can't just go and watch and not desire to be in the middle of the pack blocking the opposing jammer while helping my teams jammer break free and score...

No, I can't skate. No, I don't if I can learn. Yes, I will look like a fatty and get laughed at. But I have to try. I NEED to try. And I thank all of you who have stood firm in your encouragement even though you don't know me. Oh, and for those that compare my size to that of the great Anya Heels (whom I am fatter than)...I consider it a major compliment. She is amazing. Thank you derby friends, I love each and every one of you...and to the wonderful Seditious Heart for offering to teach me to skate without knowing or ever meeting me...there is a special place in Heaven for you. Thank you.

Here's to no more living in fear...