I have taken some time off from writing for a family move, and settling in, and now the Olympics have brought me back. I have been brought nearly to tears regularly with the Olympic Games this year. Not because of the medal count, or the wins, but because of the forceful, and broad femme body positivity. I have always had a stocky build. I was a sporty kid. I loved running, and soccer, and riding horses. I hated that I never fit right in athletic clothing, that I never looked like other athletic girls. Riding boots I had to have stretched to fit my calves, soccer shorts got eaten by my thighs, and so on. I was too short to be considered for my favorite position most of the time, my legs are out of proportion with my upper body, and it DROVE my riding instructor nuts.
As an adult I took up historical fencing in the SCA. When I started I was at a time in my life that my relationship was crumbling, my job was a struggle every day, and I had taken up Yoga 3 times a day, plus riding from 2-4 hours 3 days a week, PLUS cutting calories and running. I took all of the things I couldn't control and threw them into my vision for my athletic self, and steered that ship as hard as I could. I continued to cling to fencing as I had 6 more children, and got my Master's in Education. Recovering part of the way, beating myself up for not "bouncing back", and losing the weight, and being able to jump back into fencing. But also having no guidance for that recovery. I lost my pelvic floor stability, I gained a person's worth of weight, and I gained the strength to fence until 7 months pregnant, and to carry a 30 lb toddler on my back while doing drills with a sword. I could do almost anything pregnant with a toddler attached.
Every chance I could I worked in people's back yards when other fencing friends gathered. I studied what and how to teach to make it the most effective structure so others could learn.
One day at one of these friendly gatherings, while I was working with someone more experienced, and my teachers someone made the throw away comment, "She's faster than she looks". I all could hear is "she's so fat she looks like she can't move" I was crushed. I continued to train, to practice as I could. But in the back of my head I would hear "She's faster than she looks" and my mental game would take a small hit. Being able to see ALL of the different body types that are fit and athletic at this year's Olympics, has quieted that voice, everytime I see them. They say "shhhhhhhhhhh, she's got this. Shhhhhhhh"
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