Turbulence

I used to be a really sensitive kid, you could probably say oversensitive. One mean comment from my brother or a friend and I would throw a fit - crying, throwing things, the works. My parents always told me to just ignore the comments and not let things get to me, but it took a long time for that lesson to sink in.

Once I got to high school and became an athlete things changed. The coach was tough, so were the other gymnasts and they somehow expected the same from me. I know gymnasts aren't exactly the biker-chicks of high school, but the constant rips, bruises, turned ankles, and body shame/judging took a toll. I didn't want to be the weak one of the group so I learned to hold my tongue when my feelings or body was hurt. I internalized everything and became a sarcastibitch to keep emotions at bay and everyone around me laughing. It turned out to be a good armor - no one suspected my crazy-low self-esteem or eating disorder for over 2 years.

Now that my spandex-clad high school era has passed I'm still overly sarcastic and try to retain my emotion-less exterior. I tend to think it makes things simpler, cleaner, smoother for everyone. I still wear spandex too, just in a different form.

Unfortunately my stretchy armor doesn't work in all situations. I've hit s rough patch-o-life and have cried more in the last week than I have in the last year. Life has hit hard in the form of a busted knee, a dying grandmother, and a niece in need of surgery. It sucks to know that I'm not invincible, and that those around me aren't either.