The fighter in me hesitated writing this, because I have never considered myself a true fighter. I am definitely more of a lover. Discussing the uncomfortable parts of one's self is important for so many reasons though. In revealing the fighter in me, my hope is it will give the readers an awareness of their own fighter within. We all need this instinctive fighter within to keep us safe.
As a child, I was so whimsical, curious, adventurous, humorous, and just had this love of living within me. My sense of humor is what I loved most with a quick wittiness to follow. The dark side to my sistuation is that I was scared of my parents, because I was raised to fear. The, "wait until your father gets homes" or "Get over here nows". Those always scared me, because I knew what followed those words most of the time. Some of those instances I would forget I had gotten in trouble during the day. This added to my terror when I got punished later for what seemed had happened a lifetime ago. In my child's mind all was forgotten until it was not. What a strong little girl I was to make it through all I have made it through in this life. As I think back to all of those times I had to be strong, when underneath it all I felt so insignificant and small. Let me try to explain.
My first boyfriend at a very mature age of 5 was my neighbor Todd. We were more friends pretending to be in grownup relationships by calling it anything more than it truly was. This boy taught me how to pee standing up with a Dixie cup and a pinhole for the urine to escape from. We made a big huge mess to say the very least, but I sure did pee like a boy that day. We were just trying to figure eachother out at this point in our lives. I guess I was a little curious and Todd was a little inventive. Todd would spend the night and we would dress up in Superman and Superwoman pajamas chasing eachother around the house pretending we could fly. I remember the roaring laughter as I chased him or him I. It all came to a gradual halt as we slowly started to drift apart. The T-ball dance when he left me alone to dance with an older woman shattered my little heart. Then their was the Pound Puppy pillow dibockle that drove the growing separation even deeper. It was my Birthday party and after Todd was going to spend the night. He grabbed my brand new brown with a red ribbon Pound Puppy pillow. I asked for it back, but he playfully refused! I got familiarly furious with him much like I witnessed my father getting with my mother and I. I grabbed his slanky arm and bit it like a vampire drawing blood. I always felt horrible about my behavior that day. Todd went home crying and his mother got pretty upset with me. Then in Kindergarten he ran over in front of all of his friends at lunchtime and broke up with me. I guess he won in the end, because I ran home crying that day. You see I had to be brave. I was never going to let anyone humiliate me so publicly again. The fighter within now had layers that would build into that ultimate champion we are all so excited about watching on TV. So why was building her so darn painful?
I am positive I had many blows before this next one I am about to present. This next one needs to be showcased, because it taught me such a valuable lesson every fighter must master. To never let anyone see your weaknesses. My bestfriend from the age of 5 I met playing sports. Her name was Kellie. Her father John treated me for a short while like one of his daughters. I looked up to him in so many ways! He was an electrician that owned a house down the road from the softball fields he coached me at. He was one of my very first coaches I actually liked playing for. We traveled together for tournaments. John was always so loving towards my mothers own diagnosis of MS. He was always so caring in that way. The first emotional hit would come from Kellie however. She knew I had fallen in lust for our mutual friend Scott. I was Scott's handle bars girl! I would also sneak off the fields and run away with him back to his house to play. I remember sitting on his bikes handle bars as he chauffeured me around the elementary school yard. The wind flowing through my long golden blonde hair smiling the biggest smile, because I felt so safe with Scott. Kellie went behind my back and started dating Scott making fun of me right in front of my face. I never put it all together myself though, because the two people I loved so much I just knew would never hurt me in that way. The sad truth is they did! The worst part is the jokes and inuendos treating me like a stupid outsider with all of their combined lies. I never forgave them for that it was just so cruel. Kellie would go on later in our friendship to want to play a game at a sleep over at my house. We had gone to The Boardwalk earlier that day playing games together enjoying being growing girls. That night after we had gotten ready for bed Kellie asked me to play a game. I was so tired, but I got out of my bed to play. She had me spread out my legs wide and she did the same. The game was called something like, "Yes/No". The objective was to answer the question she asked with a yes or a no. If I answered yes her hands would move up my legs. If I answered no her hands would stay in the same place. I honestly did not see where this was going as we had been friends for so long. It turned out to be a game I did not want to play. She never knew about my abuse story, but I was shocked when the game turned sexual. I am sure it was her exploring her sexuality, but I was not excited about it. It felt like a deeper betrayal than it actual was due to my father taking the same liberties without my permission. I felt so stupid, blindsided, and scared. The irony is the game has you saying yes despite not knowing the final destination was never approved of. I ran to tell my mother. Then Kellie felt sick and needed to go home. It just felt like Todd all over again except this time I was the injured party. Our friendship would turn ugly shortly after this when I met the bad boy of my dreams Keith. Kellie saw the smoking weightlift champion on the softball field bleachers while he watched his younger sister play and told me he was cute. I was always up for dares or forward approaches so I told her I would talk to him for her. I was shocked when Keith told me he wasn't interested in my friend, but rather he was interested in me! He was attracative, strong, and mysterious. Keith had a dark tan complexion, deep brown eyes, and black hair. He asked for my number and that was that. Keith asked me out shortly after that. Kellie was furious that Keith did not like her over me. A friendship that was never really built on more than convience was over for good! I never intended to reverse the roles here, but poetic justice was served. Kellie started spreading rumors at age 13 I was having sex with Keith. While this would become a true story for reasons out of my control, it was not true at the time she spewed her hate. I was always viewed as "Boy Crazy" so her version made sense to outlookers. Maybe if one of the concerned parents was actually concerned about me instead of simply judging my actions. John, Kellie's father would end up believing her lies and hurtfully turning his back to me when I asked for help. Kellie was being so hateful I had asked John to please talk with her so she would stop attacking me. Instead the only actual father figure I had turned his back on me and cut me loose like I had never meant a dime to him. The fighter within me grew and grew through all of these hard lessons. I learned to be guarded, not let people in too close, and to look for the lies that were not always obvious.
This next example of building a fighter within always gets backlash. I would beg those that do not relate to try to have compassion for the other side, my side. I was fully grown by the age of 12. Maybe this was due to being sexualized at such a young age who truly will ever know. I had a full athletic figure with perky breasts, and long golden blond hair. The sun would always naturally highlight the hair around my face and bring out my light freckles. Due to my very active life I always seemed to have a golden tan. My shiny white teeth and bluish-green eyes stood out against my tan skin. I always recieved compliments of my beautiful eyes, my althletic figure, or my long thick hair. I appreciated the attention, but soon realized it had a power behind it I was not comfortable with. The mature men that assumed I was older than I was or the pitching coach that started our first lesson with, "Do not be alarmed if I tickle you it is something I do with all of the girls I coach." Recognizing this kind of power really does not seem valuable as a young teen. I did not want to be touched nor tickled by this man so I told my mom I did not like the way he coached me. My youth and highlighted features brought me attention I had no idea how to navigate on my own. Since I truly did not have a safe person, I had no one to tell when things got weird. The fighter within had to outsmart the the insults I was aware of. My abuse gave me a focus like no other in sports. I could lock it in not hearing a damn thing around me, because I was trained to drown out the noise at home. I got recognized and recruited by club teams in both soccer and softball. I was a pitcher in softball and had perfected my pitches at the age of 12. I could hit a dime size target. I got lost into the games. Those games were the only time I truly felt any power or control over my circumstances. I know the girls I played with genuinely cared about me, but it was hard to decipher friends from foe. After all people do follow the success of the ones in the spotlight. I never really wanted to be highlighted though! My father always made sure to let me know I was never good enough at sports despite the very few times he ever watched me play to actually give a proper assement of my skills. My low self-esteem humbled body still made it into newspaper articles over and over again. I somehow was snuck in to play with the college girls at age 12. This was a little out of my league despite being capable of holding my own. I will never forget the Hawaiian girl double my size driving the fast ball I pitched to her right into my right thigh. The seams of the ball left a blood gushing tattooed imprint in my skin. The point of all of this is my value was solely in my appearance and my ability to play sports. My said value simply did not exist outside of these details. The people that think being beautiful does not come with its own set of challenges is horribly mistaken! My very first job at Blockbuster I was stalked to the point the man would hide behind the isles and jump out at me when I would walk by to restalk the movies. Blockbuster finally got involved when he tried to kidnap me after my midnight shift ended. My coworker pulled me inside and we called the police. Blockbuster later filed a restraining order on my behalf so he was not allowed at any Blockbuster. The cruel comments like, "How hard it must be to be beautiful" or my favorite, "I wish I had that problem." Do you really wish to be stalked, under valued, and attacked/raped? I was a nieve seventeen at this time scared to be inside or outside. So guess what I wished for cruel commenters? I wished to be ugly so I would be invisible. My outgoing bubbly personality was withering away right before my very eyes. I started picking more protective looking boyfriends that appeared to be more harmful than they actually were. I never felt beautiful like apparently others perceived me as being. I felt small, fragile, and mostly scared. Sometimes I would party and drink my worries away just to feel a sense of freedom. I honestly did not like losing that sense of control for it was the fighter within me's only defense. Gifted athletically and beauty seemed to me like heavy heavy chains around my waist holding me in place so I could not run.
Now that you know a little bit more about my life, what is this blog post for exactly? I wanted to showcase the fighter within that we all have. I vulnerably have given examples of how my fighter within was molded into the solid rock it had petrified into. Why is your fighter within important you might wonder? This warrior that was needed so many times before today has built a solid brick wall around your heart. Unless this wall is carefully taken down, the illness within those walls can poison the whole of you. Illness is also trapped within your warrior. The fighter within will always be needed and hold value so unpackage her/him like fine China. I always saw my battle cry as a strength like a wall of scars I had made it through. I was ready for battle always having elevated cortisol levels, daily adrenaline drops, and a sympathetic readiness that was never off duty. Aknowledge the warrior within as being your savior to start, because realistically I would not be here today without her. Then take each brick down one by one ceremoniously. View each brick, each wound, each scar imprinted on the hard cold surface. I never want to forget my warrior within, rather I want to set her free from the tall prison I have enclosed her in. As I remove each brick, they must be placed somewhere new. Envision your dream space at this moment. Do you want to be on a grassy knoll overlooking the crashing waves of the ocean? Mindfully get the land ready for building as detailed as you wish. I will not be calling the permit police to fine you in this space. This space is just yours to do with it what you want. Only the rules you set in place apply in this setting. Now build a solid foundation. Celebrate the laying down of your first brick. In fact, celebrate every brick you lay down! Sweet Fighter Within, you are building your new home. The new home that has doors and windows so your fighter within can move freely in and out. Despite the past hardships being over, you will more than likely always have new battles to fight. This exercise is not removing what you needed for so long instead it is creating a balance that was never shown to you before today. You see sometimes I feel my fighter within so strongly like we are getting ready for a "Brave Heart" battle. While other times she is so distant and tucked away, I forget she exists in the moment. Nobody wants to be guarded at every door opening. The peace you start to create should include the fighter within being given her/his much needed breaks. Every battle does not need to be met with a sword.
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