Basket Case

I am bruised, physically and mentally. I know the physical is temporary and I’m a bit concerned about the mental bruises. I have chosen to practice a sport that is aggressive, that is brusque, that is ego crushing. Yesterday I skated a painful practice, pushing myself further than I thought I could, I cursed, I cried, I hit and missed but always, I got up and kept going. It’s not easy for me to push and shove, to embrace my animal instincts and just go for it. I am a pacifist and I want to be kind, soft and cuddly with everyone but when those wheels appear under my feet I have to turn off my lovey-dovey personality and become a warrior, a fierce competitor, a cold ass bitch,  release my inner Frenchie, the one that will take down anyone coming at me. I’m still in the process of learning solid skills and I know that I can’t be an excellent skater so quickly, I need to see the learning curve for what it is, a lesson in patience with myself, that’s something I don’t have much, I judge myself harshly, question everything I do, shame myself for decisions, berate myself for behaviour that a grown-ass woman shouldn’t have. It has been a year and a half (almost) since I’ve started skating, I know I have come a long way and I also know I could have made more efforts. 

Skating has helped me be more assertive in my personal life, has helped me be more grounded, I needed that but I still find myself doubting what I’m doing. 

I am absurdly being promiscuous with strangers so that I won’t feel so lonely, often I’m not even enjoying those people, I just want to fill the emptiness and after each encounter the dread of my actions weigh on me.

I long for a strong and solid connection, one that fulfills me, I know that I need to find it within me before I’ll find it in another human being. I have to trust that I am worthy of my own love and patience. 

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