Sweaty Hugs and Hard-Earned Gatorade

Photo Credit: thepreachersword.com
team
tēm/
noun:
a group of players forming one side in a competitive game or sport.
synonyms: group, squad, company, party, crew, troupe, band, side, lineup, phalanx
verb:
come together as a team to achieve a common goal.
“he teamed up with the band to produce the album”
synonyms: join (forces), collaborate, get together, work together.
Sweaty hugs; cheering until my throat is raw;the pre-race jitters; hard-earned Gatorade; singing to “Africa” on the bus rides; pushing through almost unbearable pain; the cheers from my coaches and team mates; the feeling of success, when all the hard training and effort pays off; the happiness of coaches bringing food, after you just pushed yourself to your physical max; the endless support we have for each other; the amount of effort we put in; the dynamic and connection between us athletes; the fact that real teammates don’t only care about how you perform, they care about how hard you try. All these things contribute to the the feeling of being part of an authentic team, which is one of the best feelings that exists.
au·then·tic
ôˈTHen(t)ik/
adjective
adjective: authentic.
of undisputed origin; genuine.
“the letter is now accepted as an authentic document”

synonyms: genuine, real, bona fide, true, veritable

antonyms: fake. synonyms: reliable, dependable, trustworthy, authoritative, honest, faithful.

In my words, the way it should be: caring and real. 

I’ve been on many teams before. On some, we’ve won championships and received numerous trophies. On some, we placed last and got our asses handed to us. Winning is great, it’s what I strive to do, but I’ve realized that more than just winning that counts. I’ve realized that to have a good team, winning can’t be the only focus.

On a previous team, every day I would give my all. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, even the slightest mess-up resulted in dirty glares and angry shrugs. It made it so I was nervous to go to practice; I was afraid of my teammates; I pushed myself to the limits, because I was scared the punishment if I didn’t; and I was absolutely mortified before every game. This approach worked. I got stronger, I got better, I became a better athlete, but I forgot the fact that I love the sport.

After two years on that team, another opportunity came up, so I switched to a team with a VERY different dynamic. We pushed each other to do our best, to be our best. When slip-ups or bad days came, we encouraged each other to get better, not to feel like shit. I became so close to my teammates, I had good relationships with my coaches, I was so excited to go to practice everyday, and I pushed myself to the limits, because I wanted to get better for myself and my team. Our team performed just as well as the other one I mentioned and my love for the sport was rekindled.

Recently, I joined another team. I love both of the teams I’m on right now so much, but it’s been a long time since I have felt the feeling of happiness, appreciation, friendship, and passion as I did yesterday at my first ever cross country meet.

I know I love swimming far more than I love running, so it confuses me that yesterday, in this sport that I just joined months ago,  has brought me almost as much joy as the sport I have been doing for years. I think it’s just because swimming is more of an individual sport without a large aspect of team. I think its because the swim team I’m on has people who qualify for the Olympics or on the Junior National Team and I’m so slow compared to them, it makes me feel like I’m slow, period. Maybe its because a cross country the team is only as strong as its weakest link, so everyone is needed. Maybe because in the small league we run in, I too place high and feel like a good runner.

I think all of these things are a factor, but what I know for sure is that the feeling of being part of an authentic team is one of the best feelings that exists.

505 </3

Maybe it was the superficial love I used to be attracted too. In love with the idea of the person, not the person. In love with the idea of being someone’s, anyone’s number one.

Not to say the boys I have been with aren’t special to me, because they are; they always will be. But, I’ve just never felt the way I do now about anyone. I didn’t know I could.

I never understood what people meant when they talked about being in love with someone. When they said they would want to spend all their time with their partner. When their partner would do something so unattractive and they would still be so in love with that person. I always kind of either thought they were faking it or it was something that grows over a lot time.

I understand now.

If I could, I would give everything to this boy.

All we’ve ever been was close friends, but I don’t mind.

I never wanted to lose him. Just being friends was enough for me.

That’s the worst part of it all; we don’t talk as much anymore.

It hurts the most when I know he can see what I said, but doesn’t respond.

It hurts the most when he made me call him when I got home, so he knew I was safe, won’t respond to a stupid message.

I just want to know he still cares about me.

Even when we live hours apart, I want to know he would still see me if he could.

My go-to response to something like this is usually to get angry and cut him off. I say “he isn’t shit” or “screw him” but, I could never be mad at this boy.

“i’d probably still adore you with your hands around my neck”

“505” – The Arctic Monkeys

Photo Credit: pinterest.com

Slipping

It seems as if, no matter how much I try to hold on to something, I can’t.  I don’t even have time to wrap my head around anything.

Everything is moving faster than me and I can’t seem to hold onto the present.  Right when I start to settle in, everything changes.

I got used to letting everything slip through my fingertips, until I met you.  When I met you, I finally felt as if I could hold onto something.

But, I was wrong.

I should have known that I couldn’t hold onto anything, let alone you, but I was young and foolish.

Photo Credit: Pinterest.com

I got used to your arms. I thought they would hold me in the present my whole life.

Then, one day they were ripped away faster than I could blink.  The one place that I truly felt safe was taken away.  It hurt and was scary. I thought it could never get worse, until I realized you meant more to me than I could have ever meant to you. I seemed to be something that you wanted to forget and you wanted to erase me.

You ripped me apart and made me feel lower than I could have ever imaged, but I had my best friend.

At least, that’s what I thought, until she found a new boy who was better than me.

Then, I lost another close friend.  It felt as if he dropped off the face of the earth.  He never texted me and I never even saw or heard anything about him, until he was on my friend’s story.  This friend thought we had drifted apart and no longer wanted to be my friend as well.

So, I laid in my bed all day with nothing to do and no one to do nothing with.

All my friends did things with their summers, they posted it, too.  I watched them have fun and get tan as I laid in bed and let the present fully slip from my grasp.

Now, I have to grow up, vote, apply to college, and survive my senior year. I have to do this while faking to everyone I have a grip on the present and present myself as put-together.

I’ve slipped like this before and somehow I was able to make it out, but sometimes it really seems impossible without you.

Why wasn’t I enough for you?

Why did you let me slip?

Why wouldn’t you let me make things okay?

Why should I try to make things okay when you’re the one who fucked it up?

I Miss You

When I say I miss you, it’s not you that I miss.  I just miss the memories and I miss what we had. I miss the beach and Mongolian BBQ.  I miss all the things I will never experience again.

Photo Credit: art-en-provence.com

When I say I want you back, you have to understand I don’t want who you are now.  I want who you used to be and the way we used to be.

When I say I love you, I hope you know I am not in love with you anymore.  I just have love for you.  I want the best for you and hope you’re happy, but I don’t look at you and become filled with happiness and love anymore.

I hate when I hear bad things about you.  I hate to see you struggling with something, but most of all I hate that we don’t even smile at each other anymore.

I will always care, even if I don’t want to be with you.

I could never say any of this out loud to anyone, so I hope you read this and know who you are.  Maybe, one day, we could go back to that beach and be happy again.

Retrospect

Isn’t it ironic how, being so far away from home, I have never before felt closer to my country?

9,338 kilometers, to be exact. That’s how far away my childhood home is. My best friend, my room, my horses, the forest by my house. I haven’t looked back a lot in the past years; I don’t really miss it all that much. But, from time to time, I wonder how my life would be if I had never left Germany.

Photo Credit: mapio.net

How would it be if I would still come home every day to my dog barking and my mom talking on the phone? How would it be if we still had our family dinners every day, with the good, old German Wagenradbrot and Kochkäse. If we still went to the Biergarten after spending all afternoon at the barn; then, we would walk home, probably fight a little bit as usual; and, then, watch some sort of wildlife documentary together because we couldn’t agree on a movie we all liked. What if I still woke up to my dad feeding my dog every morning and the rain bouncing against my blinds?

I’ve realized that this part of my life is over. I haven’t spent my birthday at home since I was thirteen. My siblings are both legal adults now and go to college in California. Next year, I will too, and I will leave another home. That is okay, though, that’s how it goes. But, there isn’t a single day I don’t feel as if I owe an apology to my parents: for taking their daughter away from home too early.

The Right Words

Photo Credit: pinterest.com

When it comes to writing, I plan everything out in my head.

Even if I’m not physically writing, I’m pretty much always thinking about how and when and what words to use next.

It happens all the time: when I’m walking down the street and see someone eating alone at a restaurant, in a movie theater with my friends, whenever I’m doing anything. I start putting together bits and pieces of a story or poem, trying my best to remember it all, until I have the chance to jot something down.

My mind is constantly filled with words, phrases, and thoughts. I don’t think there’s ever been a time when it was completely empty.

But, for some reason, I can’t seem to find any words at all to explain how I feel about you.

I’ve been trying for months now, but they never seem to fit together quite right.

The thing is, I think about you all of the time. I know how it feels, but I just don’t know how to describe it.

Maybe it’s because I don’t fully understand it myself. Maybe it’s because the only messages I ever get from you are hopelessly unclear.

Whatever it is, I hope I work it out soon. Because, once I do, you’re going to have a lot of reading to catch up on.

The First Time I Saw My Father Cry

Trigger Warning: Eating Disorders

Photo Credit: tearsforfears.com

My dad always seemed to find a way to stay strong. During hard times, he remains tough and tells me it’s going to be okay. The day he found out he had a blocked artery and needed heart surgery, the day my grandfather died,  the day my mom got hurt and had to go to the hospital, and the day his favorite pet died, he never cried. It’s not that it wasn’t hard for him, it all was. The reason he didn’t cry was because he always wanted me to know that it was okay, that it was all going to be okay. He stays strong because he hopes that no matter how bad the situation, we will find a way out of it. My dad doesn’t cry because he wants me to think that everything is going to be okay.

The outline of all my ribs were visible, even through the tank top I wore. My hip bones stuck out and created a visible lines in the XS leggings I wore which were still too big. You could see my spine through my shirt and my tail bones were visible too. There were bruises on my back from laying down, my bones would cause purple and blue marks to form on the skin covering them. My jaw had become sharp and it looked as if my cheeks went inward. My collarbones practically popped out of my skin and my sternum was defined and visible. If I lifted up my shirt,  my deteriorating heart beating slowly through my chest was easily seen.

About a month before the day listed above was the day when I had officially been diagnosed. We had known something was up for a while. The cutting out of food groups; skipping meals; weighing myself at least twice a day; crying before, during, and after eating; the fact that all my clothes now fit loosely; my low energy level; and much more made my parents suspect something wasn’t right. But, today, a professional had given the thing controlling their daughter an official name: anorexia nervosa . That same day, the result from my EKG came in, my heart rate was dangerously low and we were called in the doctor’s office immediately. As soon as I walked in, she put a device on my finger that revealed my heart rate: 38 beats per minute. Due to all the weight I had lost, and the fact that I had been depriving myself of the calories I needed, my body started to break down the muscles in my vital organs in order to  receive the energy needed to survive day-to-day life.

My heart was the main victim of this.  The doctor told me that I needed to stop water polo and all exercise until my heart rate was normal. Water polo was what made me happy: it was my identity, my passion, my motivation to get better, and my dad knew this. I had never cried so hard in my life. After five minutes of me in tears, my mom broke down too, but my dad stayed strong and comforted the both of us. She then told my parents about the hospitalization programs she recommended for me. I cried on the drive home and for hours when we were home, I cried and cried and cried. As I lay alone in bed that night, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t sleep. My plan was to go to wake up my dad and ask him to be with me, I felt bad about waking him up, but I didn’t know what I would do without him right now. I knew if I woke up my mom, she would start to sob too. It was hard enough dealing with the pain I brought upon myself, I couldn’t manage to see the pain I inflicted on her. I wanted, no, I needed him to tell me that I was strong, tell me that I could get through this, tell me that everything was going to be okay. I walked into their room and used my phone for light, but to my surprise he wasn’t there. I walked back to the hallway and looked at the shut office door with light coming from underneath it. Maybe he wasn’t tired and decided to do some work. That thought made me feel better because then I wouldn’t be waking him up, but as soon as I opened the door, my heart already-failing heart felt like it had stopped working completely. There was my dad: eyes red, cheeks stained. He sat on the floor holding a tissue wet with tears. This was the first time in my thirteen years alive that I had seen my dad cry.

hello, welcome to my world

Screen Shot 2018-09-08 at 11.19.57 AM
Photo Credit: pinterest.com

i’m not very good with using MY words.

so, i tend to listen to a lot of music and use their words instead.

with that said,

HELLO, WELCOME TO MY WORLD.

“7:45 in the morning i’m leaving my house

trying not to think of all the ways this place has changed.” (1)

“you need to be yourself

love someone for loving you instead of someone really cool who makes your heart melt,

who knows what you truly felt?” (2)

“everyones offended, but nobody here offended me.” (3)

“all the medicine you fed us, and how i just wanted you to taste your own,

but, now, the medications taking over and your mental states deteriorating slow’

and i’m way too old to cry this shit is painful though” (4)

“i wish i felt as pretty as i did when i was a little kid” (5)

“and she just wants to feel something, i don’t think thats asking for too much” (6)

“i’d rather be at home than a party where there’s hate

people making fun of me while smiling in my face

i’m a nice kid and the world ain’t” (7)

“trying hard to pay attention, but i have no real direction” (8)

“blowing off my mom, i don’t want to go home

i’d rather be alone i don’t want to go home

it’s getting really late so i gotta go home

moms blowing up my phone so i gotta go home” (9)

“did it ever even cross your mind?

that you might’ve hurt me too

but i couldn’t tell you that back then.” (10)

“i dont understand it

you’re changing i cant stand it” (11)

“i just miss how it felt

standing next to you

wearing matching dresses before the world was big” (12)

“baby how you doin?

i know you’re not doing the best

but i’m here

i’m always right here

tell me if you need me and call me if you feeling alone

cuz i’m here i’m always right here.” (13)

to be honest, i don’t really feel like talking about what these words mean to me.

if you know me well enough, maybe you’ll get it. if you don’t know me at all, now you do, because those words are what i’m made of.

song 1- before the world was big by girlpool

song 2- best friend by rex orange county

song 3- bart simpson by princess nokia

song 4- headlight by eminem

song 5- little kid by dogbite

song 6- she lays down by the 1975

song 7- goth kid by princess nokia

song 8- bart simpson by princess nokia

song 9- empty by kevin abstract

song 10- the fort by zack villere

song 11- changes by xxxtentacion

song 12- before the world was big by girlpool

song 12- right here by lil peep

You Were Born

I have known you since the second you took your first breath and became a part of this world. I have loved you from that moment on and I am so thankful for every minute I have spent with you so far. In these four years of your life, I have only learned to love you more and more with everything you do.

I know you are “just a horse” and I may sound crazy to some people, but you will always mean the world to me.

IMG_8012
Photo Credit: Me

When I couldn’t ride your mother anymore, a part of my world collapsed. She has been my pony since I was eight years old, she was my best friend. The day we decided to breed with her was the day my world started to come together again. Breeding horses always means taking a risk. There was no way I could have ever expected you to turn out so perfect.

I was there for your first breath, your first step, your first sprint, your first fall. I wasn’t there for your first jump, your first time carrying a saddle, your first ride. I am sorry. I am sorry for all the things I’ve missed out on, because I wasn’t home. I am sorry I wasn’t there for you as much as I always have wanted to.

DSC_0579
Photo Credit: Me

But, now you’re coming here. Now, you’re traveling 6,000 miles to get here, where I will see you and love you every single day. You are a piece of home and so much more than that.

Let me correct myself. You are not “just a horse,” you are my horse.

 

platonic

I had no idea what I was getting myself into; I was in a place I’ve never been, with people I’ve never met, learning things I’ve never learned about.

IMG_4985
Photo Credit: flickr.com

I was forced against my will.  “You’re going to leadership camp.” My mom said. God, i hated the sound of that . I ignored that I had to go for weeks on end, until the day came.

There were 28 of us. Girls and boys all fit into one dorm —girls on one side, boys on the other. The leader of the program, Cornelia, told us that we would make bonds so close that we might end up thinking we love people here and that we might end up actually doing so. I called B.S.

I was wrong. We continued the program, which begun at 8AM everyday with breakfast and the majority of the days ended at 9PM with not a lot of free time in between. Everyday, I was more exhausted than the day before, most of the time, it was emotionally, but sometimes physically too.

Each day consisted of sitting and standing in circles, learning about concepts like “seeking true north,”  “finding your true authentic self,” and “identity.” We would sit in circles with people we didn’t know and answer prompts like “When is a time you did or did not feel trust?” That was called “council” and it was terrifying, I can barely open up with my closest friends, let alone people I had just meet. I was wrong again. I found myself sharing things I had never said out loud in that foreign place with those same foreign people.

I bonded with people in ways that I never knew was even possible and experienced what it was like to be loved and supported in every way, shape, and form. Yes, I have friends at home, sure. But, I had never felt friendship in the way I felt it here. One of the most important things I learned: not all of your friends are meant to be the deep, emotional friends. You can and will have the friends you just have fun with and will never a day in your life get deep with and that’s ok too. But, for once, I thought it was nice to have both.

One of the scariest things for me has always been letting people in. I tend to guard myself. My logic used to be, “If I never let anyone get too close to me no one can ever hurt me.” It makes sense, yes. It’s also true. But, it’s lonely. I never knew just how lonely it was, until I felt the alternative.

While I was at Core Leadership California, I met a girl named Sedona. She is eighteen and lives about six hours away and is going to into her freshman year in college at a place which happens to be really close to where I live. It was the last day: everyone was listening to a classroom lesson, which pretty much means we are all sitting in a circle on the ground and the leader of the program talks to us about things she thinks we would grow from. The leader told us to write down someone in our book that we feel like we can talk to about deep things when we go back home and for them to be “our person.” I, being the awkward person I am didn’t write anyone down, not because I don’t have friends who would support me, but because I never did, or could, open up to my friends in that way. I think Sedona saw that I wrote no one down, or maybe she didn’t, but she was sitting right next to me, anyways.

Fast forward an hour or two and everyone was saying goodbye to each other. I think every single person out of the 28 of us cried. Most of us had cried before though, either in council or just along the trip, because it was such an open environment we felt we could do so and not have to hide it. Although, I was one of the few people who hadn’t. In the moment near the end, I cried way harder than I had in a long while, but I finally felt like I made the friends i had always wanted and it was so hard for me. I didn’t know when I was going to see them again.

The closest person to me lived 7 hours away.

It came my turn to say goodbye to Sedona. I was crying pretty hard, so we just hugged, maybe for thirty seconds… more or less. Which, is a pretty long time for a hug, if you think about it.

Thirty seconds just holding someone… it’s a while, but not when you’re both crying. I was never a big hugger until recently. Hugs feel like all the things you can never say.

We were hugging and she let go and just looked at me in the eye and I didn’t know what to do. So, I probably just looked at the ground and then she said, “Kiana, I’ll be your person if you let me.”

That meant everything in the world to me. Maybe it’s because no one had ever said anything like that before, maybe it’s something else.

I can’t put how a thing like that into words. Maybe it’s better unsaid, maybe i’m ruining it by writing about it, but,

in that moment, I realized that maybe, just maybe, platonic love could carry a person.

To say the least, I am eternally grateful for my mom for making me go against my will to the leadership program at a place I’ve never been, with people I’ve never met, learning things I’ve never learned about.