There are things about my childhood that I remember perfectly. The memory is vivid and the beating of my heart just thinking about that afternoon takes me back. Little girls lined up on the sidelines and with a simple raise of my arm, I signaled it was time. Seconds later I would run full speed towards a the vault. As a little girl I had competed in gymnastics and this run was one of many. Nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn't my favorite event but I was good at it. Running as fast as I could down the runway just to land arms first on the vault and twisting to throw my body over for the dismount. Landing with both feet on the mat and hands flying straight in the air. Nothing about gymnastics scared me. I was fearless. The beam, bars, floor exercises and the vault. None of it was scary. That is until the day that changed my whole outlook on the sport. Running up to the vault, losing my focus and watching in slow motion as my hands missed the vault. I felt like I had launched my body in the air for miles. Landing hard and more than anything terrified of what had happened and why my hands slid off of the vault. I had never missed the vault before, not even in practice, but during a meet with all eyes on me, and the gasps from the crowd just made my head spin.
After that day, nothing was the same. Its funny how moments of fear or uncertainty change things. As I got older this became a long forgotten memory because life is full of scary moments, moments when you aren't sure why or how. But at the time it made me timid. The little girl who was nicknamed 'birdgirl" by her mom from doing gymnastics in the house and leaping from furniture. The little girl whose dad made her a balance beam so she could practice at home. The little girl who lived in leotards, bikinis and boots would slowly turn it all in. I hated that after that meet I was scared. Scared to move on to the next level because of what skill set came with it. Just like driving a car, if you hesitate you will cause a wreck. Doing gymnastics half way, will get you hurt. I eventually stopped competing. I don't think I fully admitted out loud it was because of fear. There are plenty of valid reasons why a young girl stops competing. Moments in life impact us. Risks we don't take are just as scary as the ones we do. Maybe more so.
Who knows why I thought about my days as a gymnast today, but the reminder of how I felt then reminds me of choices I am making now. The fear of change should be washed away by the fear of everything staying exactly the same.
-SJP
