River Queen Rollin' On

I started my second season of roller derby on Sunday. I know that I'd meant to write more about it during last season but like anything you love this much, you want to protect it. To foster it and keep it safe from the rest of the world, while simultaneously wanting to shout from mountain tops about your love for it. Yet no words could ever come close to the actual reality.

That, my friends, is how much I love roller derby.

As someone who has always felt weak in my personal life, being able to put on some skates (and knee pads, elbow pads, wrist guards, helmet and the dreaded mouth guard), to get out there and have the chance to be strong and to be aggressive... The feeling is indescribable. I can't count the number of ways that derby has changed me.

I've never been athletic, to put it mildly. I'm a "lay down and read a book" person. Oh, the lengths I went to in order to evade my dreaded nemesis: sweat. I have sweat so much during practice that I've had rivulets rolling down my butt crack, y'all. And I didn't mind! I've worked out so hard that I had to swallow down puke. I've strained *parts* that I didn't even know were possible to strain. I've been bruised, bloody, aching, muscles shaking, parched, thinking that I couldn't possibly continue on... but I've kept going. I've given it one more lap, one more plank, one more drill, more, more, more. A hard way to find out that you're a fighter, but a lesson well learned.

I've always been self-conscious of my "thunder thighs", my "mothering hips", my broad shoulders, thought I had too much booty. I've referred to my body type as "chunky hourglass", I've abused it, have taken it for granted, have not cared about it as I should. But you know what? My thighs are strong for skating. My hips and ass are perfect for blocking and for pushing other bitches out of my way. My shoulders can carry a lot of weight both literally and figuratively. How is it that I made it to the age of 31 and am only now figuring out that I can be positive about my body and not only just accept it, but celebrate it?

This body is a temple now. I feed it right, I stretch it, I exercise more than just my brain and my mouth, I take what could be considered a meal of vitamins every day to make sure that my bones are strong for when they impact with the concrete floors that I skate on. Heck, I'm even ex-foliating and moisturizing more often! This body is going to last me for the rest of my life, God-willing, and it's going to be involved in roller derby for as long as it can keep up.

So you can maybe begin to understand now, how good I feel and how I want to just keep that to myself for a while before I let other people in?

That's all, (but there's so much more)

Twills

XOXO

Never a Bride

Most people who know me know that I hate weddings. Not so much the weddings of other people, more so weddings of my own. I have wedding phobia in regards to myself. The whole idea of having a wedding makes me have a panic attack. I could delve into the psychology behind this right now, but that's not what I want to talk about right now.

My cousin is getting married in September, and she's asked me to be one of her five bridesmaids. After I got over the initial shock and happiness, and also the feeling of knowing that somebody else loves you as much as you love them, *panic* set in. Not the same panic that I have over myself getting married, such as standing in front of a huge crowd and talking about mushy-lovey-dovey junk, or fear of falling flat on my face with my dress over my ears... No, not that.

I was in a panic because I realised that I am going to be the "fat bridesmaid". I have never been the "fat friend". And yes, while I *know* that I'm not "fat", the feeling of standing up in front of two hundred and fifty people, wearing the exact same dress as four other girls who are all less than size four is freaking me the eff out. I didn't think this would bother me so much. I wasn't anticipating that something as simple as body image would create such a "me issue".

My breasts are not where they used to be. I have hips. I have an ass. That huge tattoo that I got on my navel when I was younger is looking a little wonky now after the repeated pregnancies and their ensuing stretch marks. Yet I've always still held firm to the belief that I'm HOT, dammit!

I've had three kids. I eat everything I want and I walk around all day following my id. I don't deprive myself of sweets, I don't take care of myself like I should, and I'm pushing thirty. Yet I like to think that I still look good. Forgive me if I'm related to you and click away NOW, but my man still wants to hit this every chance he gets. And by that I mean that we totally get it on. *snicker*

I wear red lipstick and heels to pick up my kids from school. I strut at the grocery store. I toss my hair over my shoulder with exaggerated flair. I generally have a sense of confidence about myself. In fact, usually it's the ego I have to keep in check. (It runs in the family... we're a good looking bunch, and we know it.) I should mention, though of course we know this, that body is not everything. I'm a good person. I'm smart, and I can cook and bake most people under the table. (That bitch Martha ain't got shit on me, yo.)


So why am I so worried about the being the largest bridesmaid?


Simple. For the same reason that even with as much as Oprah Winfrey (and it must be said that I am not an Oprah-ite) has accomplished in her life, she is still, after thirty years, stressing about her weight. Women do this to themselves. Whether it's the media or society or for whatever reason, we do these things to ourselves and also each other.

But really, do I want to look back at myself in twenty years and say that I was not even trying? That I gained anywhere from ten to fifteen pounds every winter because I rarely left the house? That I was not doing my best to take care of myself and my body? It's a temple, dammit! I should treat it like one more often.

So I'm not going to concentrate on size when I'm stressing out. I'm going to concentrate on flabbiness. This is my natural weight and size. The way I am with absolutely no maintenance. What I'm going to work on is being strong. Not thin. And more fit, not emaciated. I'm not going to starve, I'm just going to do a little bit of shaping up.

I'm going to be standing up there with those other bridesmaids at the wedding and I'm going to walk with a swagger. I'm going to have a spring in my step. I'm the oldest, I'm the biggest, and I'm the sexiest.



If that doesn't work I'll knock them all out with hot shoes.