I trekked into the woods today to finally, f i n a l l y, step back on to a skateboard. It feels like a lifetime ago (it basically was) that I gave it up and never really looked back. I failed, that was done, I wasn't good and I wasn't going to bother anymore.
Over the last few years as I've slowly tip toed my way onto a surfboard, paddle board, and snowboard that same feeling of failure came up each time. I've failed before, I'll probably just fail again. With every new board sport I tried, I felt that same gut feeling - I'm going to f**k this up. There's an older post on this blog that outlines the internal struggle I had learning to surf...it was an awful experience, but it taught me so much about myself, and how ruthless my inner dialogue was.
Since that first time getting on a surf board, It's all been fuel to the fire of determination to conquer that interior thought pattern. Anytime I feel myself plotting out another failure narrative I try to prove it wrong. I've gone on more surf trips since that day, and even have one coming up in three weeks. I've fallen in love with the sport after somehow turning that terrible experience into an undying passion.
At one of the last surf camps I went to there was a pair of middle aged spanish women learning to surf along side me and I thought it was one of the coolest things to see. Those are the women I want to embody. For my myself, for my friends and family, I want to see powerful women who aren't afraid at any age to just go for it. In order to do that though, you have to face your fears and push through.
Over the last few years slowly over coming each obstacle one at time, first surf, then snow, then paddle but the failure of the skateboard still sat in the back of my head. It seems crazy while I type this out, that we can hold on to something so strongly for years and smear it over ourselves as a failure we can never overcome. And yet, we do... at least I do.
After over a year of "maybe I could. No I won't. Maybe if I just, nope. I won't."
I bought a board.
When I got it, I played with it in my living room and taught my sister's cat how to ride it. I was grinning and so excited.
Then I left it, against the wall, collecting dust, for weeks.
I took it out one morning in order to ride to work and I pushed once, panicked, then put it back in the house and walked to work.
I really had a struggle with this one, and eventually I realized I needed to make it easier on myself. It's supposed to be fun I don't have to do this... I want to do this.
Then it dawned on me, go somewhere you feel good, do something that makes you feel good and the whole experience will change.
I went to the woods, took some photos, all was well in the world and I smiled non stop.
On to the next fear...