August 30, 2013

Sometimes Happiness is a Choice

Thank you iOna. Thank you for taking a step back and asking me to take a step up when I didn't think I wanted to. Thank you for passing me that torch, but mostly, thank you for keeping me in derby. Last month, I wasn't sure I still wanted to keep paying and going to practices but because I felt like I couldn't drop my committee work, I didn't quit. I might have, but I didn't. It was stressful for me last month at the end of a series of stressful months. It was the biggest PR event of the year and my first as the interim head of PR. I laid awake in bed the night before that big-ass event SERIOUSLY wondering if we would arrive for our booth at New West Fest Bohemian Nights and we wouldn't be on the list. Yes, I did talk (face to face even!) with the people running it. Yes, they definitely charged our card for the space. Yes, I did wait until the last possible moment to submit our information for insurance for this, THE BIGGEST PR EVENT OF THE YEAR. Similar to when you're sick and google your symptoms late at night in a fit of delirium, it was truly late night paranoia at it's finest. So yeah, I panicked a little. Or a lot, but it doesn't count when Mr. Maguire is the only one who sees it, right?

Between the life things that have been going on for me this summer, and my waning interest in getting hit by Spice Cadet at scrimmage, I was really considering if I was ready to be done skating. Sure, I could NSO... I could even keep my board position... I might even be interested in just being a fan for a heartbeat... These were all the thoughts that plagued me before practice. I would go to practice and not sprint with heart, I wouldn't recover with speed, I wouldn't toe-stop run with any attempt at agility. I kept thinking about who I was going to make snotty comments to when so-and-so OBVIOUSLY missed the point of that drill! Or when I seriously didn't think I was going to be able to do that endurance bullshit the trainer is asking us to do. Derby wasn't fun. I wasn't fun.

Bonus points if you know what this is from.
You will win a smug sense of satisfaction.
And then two weeks ago I woke up and realized, I can be happy again. I can just do that. It's a thing, and it's happening, everyday, inside my head and heart. I AM happy again. BOOM. There it is. A simple choice to be happy. In work and at home and at derby and even when Suzy MuffinCrusher FLATTENS me in a bout in front of my parents. Whatever. It's derby. You get knocked down. I've spent most of the last year getting knocked down and I have been recovering more and more slowly. But not anymore. That is what decided that morning in bed.

I was fed up. With the people in my life, with the people at my job, with my... uh job in general (sorry Shannon!) and I realized I was fed up with me. That I was the problem. Everywhere I went, there I was. It was like "Ugh, it's another day with that girl..." but it was me!! And then one day it wasn't. It's been hard to figure out how to be me again. The person who likes people. The person who looks for the positive. There person you can count on to be your friend and to ask you about your day and really care about the answer. Where did that girl go? She just needed a break I guess, but it's time for that to be my thing again. It is time to be the tireless cheerleader of the league again. It just feels better to holler at muh betches on the track that they're jamming like champs, and dishing out unstoppable hits, and building impenetrable walls. That is who I am. Because everytime I say something nice to someone I am giving myself a lift in positivity as well. It's pretty selfish really.

I may have a bachelors degree in bullshit (or History and Political Science, but it's the same thing, right?) but I don't need to speak primarily in snark. Sarcasm only gets you so far before it gets shady. A little well timed honesty does wonders for the soul, especially when you can complement a friend. Tell her you like her sassy skirt (Pootie!) or you loved her bravery at jamming the first jam IN HER FIRST BOUT (Malady?!) and most of all, tell her that you're proud of her life choices (Mome and Femme. Just... ALWAYS) because you are. Then ride the crest of having the capacity to look outside your selfish and dark inner world for a heartbeat to notice your friends. They're the family that you choose. Derby is the family that I choose. I forgot this for a while, but it chose me too.

These last two scrimmages have shown me that when I bring the awesome to the track, it rewards me. Remembering that it can be fun and that when it isn't, that is my own damn fault. Get out of your head Molly and into the game. Remember that you're a friend and a sister to these women and they need a communicator and booty blocker when you're out there. Remember that they forgive and that when Miz offers you a tip, she is not tearing you down and that she is building you up. So, thank you iOna for unknowingly being the spark that reinvigorated my warm and honest smile. Tonight, derby doesn't suck. No ma'am.

Derby Love,
Mollytov Maguire

1 comment:

  1. I'm getting caught up on blog posts. A-effen-men, woman. This is a boost I needed to hear. Seriously, Molly, it is serendipity that I read this after last night's exhaustion. If we can overcome the battle in our brains against our bodies against our hearts and have everything rolling in derby direction (so to speak) then it feels like the weariness would be kept at bay. Thank you for speaking to how I've been feeling. It was truly appropriate that I read it a week late.