kind of like punching a mirror but not really.

I've thought a lot about her. Doubted her. Misunderstood her. Confided in her.

I've thrown her under the bus. Saved her. Excused her. Abused her. Feared her.

I’ve written about her. Dreamed about her. Dated her.

I’ve forgiven her.

She left me. 

She left me at a diner in Idaho. She left me on the side of the road in southern Utah. She left me at the top of a peak in Arizona. On a bus in Austin, Texas. Miles from a marina in the Pacific Ocean. She left me at Union Station. She left me in the Rocky Mountains. She left me following a late-night phone call and on that first tear filled night that followed. She left me a year ago.  

She is the girl peering from behind thick lenses in bulky plastic frames. She is the one who spent a lot of time as a child staring into a mirror. She wondered what was happening in that world, the one she was seeing on the other side. She is the one with whom I became aware of my world. My inner voice for most of my life. Sometimes still wondering what was happening on the other side of the mirror.

She left me when I stopped giving second chances to someone else, and gave one to myself.

***

I am like that driver in the morning on the freeway, the one who hesitates while changing lanes. Slows down on the on ramp, so you get on the freeway behind your new friend who’s going 35 miles per hour. I am that in boxing, I am not that driver on the freeway (you’re welcome).

My feet are glued to the ground, my body is stiff. I need to turn my hand, use my hips. I need to lift my elbow, loop the punch around. Protect my face. Protect my face. Protect my face. Widen my stance, shorten my stance, adjust my stance. Move around and most importantly, protect my face. I can feel the hesitation, my mind locks up. Move my feet, protect my face. The bell rings. Start a new combination. Remember the one from before and think of all the ways to improve it.

See the other boxers, see the ones who are good. See the ones who make it look easy and wonder if they started out just as fucked up as me. Loosen up, keep my feet moving, throw some punches, land one good one. Drink some water. Unwrap my hands. Roll the wraps. Want to be better.

Apply that to everything. Accept the work. Learn to love it, learn to acknowledge little improvements. Appreciate the rewards. Most importantly, protect my face. And move my feet. One step at a time. Get better at something hard, make it become something easy.

Most importantly, set a good example for my kids. Show them what a persistent, hard working, confident woman looks like.

Focused. Powerful. In control. Deserving of respect. Knows the beauty of silence. Not a victim. Not anymore. Never again.