Monday, April 15, 2013

I am where I am because I was an attention-seeking idiot.


I have my own life. This may or may not be my redeeming quality. A redeeming quality is one that makes up for flaws and faults. Probably a phrase used mostly in terms of describing another person, referring it to myself just reinforces my transparency. Learn from it, take what you can. In terms of my redeeming quality, the fact that I have my own individual goals and successes now makes up for the time I spent living for other people through attention-driven behavior. That's where my new quality picks up where I lacked-- true identity and self-love.

I lived for and through others. Not in the way that I did what others told me to do regardless of my own opinion. I mean, growing up that was the gist of it but moving further towards adulthood requires more subtle attempts at acceptance. You can only follow someone for so long until they notice. You move on to groups or cultural trends. The motivation to be liked, to have attention no matter how negative was strong. Maybe it's still strong but I go about it now through traveling the high road. I can't say, however, that this was the case up until last year. But I'll give you some insight starting early on:

Middle school was the floating era in-between where I was lost. Elementary school was easy to gain respect, just bring cool lunchables and be okay at handball. After that it takes a little more effort and perhaps an early puberty to be cool, both of which I didn't have. During those years I gelled my hair back in a ponytail everyday and wore army green zebra print shirts with track suit pants. I was entirely oblivious to the ins and outs of fashion at the time, but I slowly realized through eighth grade when I found out thong underwear was definitely in and that what you wear can be a good shortcut to becoming popular. I was actually gifted a few pairs from an older member in my girl scout troop. I wore them behind my mother's back since she did all of my laundry and her lack of "cool mom" reputation would have deemed them inappropriate-- especially for a thirteen year old. I hid them from her by washing them by hand and cycling through them during the week so I would never be seen with granny panties again. 

At my school, being pants-ed was a way for girls to look cute with a shocked face at school while really gaining attention from the boys by exciting them with flashes of their butts. I was pants-ed one night while trying to look cool in front of some popular girls and bad-ass boys. I had totally ditched my mom during back-to-school night which I thought gave me cool credits but as I was pants-ed by a fellow frenemy, my granny panties were revealed and I felt the immediate sting of horror. "Ew she's wearing granny panties!," my crush said and that was all it took for me to hoard three pairs of thong underwear in a small box on my desk at home. It paid off, though, when the guy who dumped me in fourth grade, the one who gave me my first kiss through a game of after school truth or dare, noticed the g-string peeking out of my pants in 6th period history class. From then on, I got to be made fun of but in the way that thirteen year old boys flirt and it felt good to garner such "respect."

I spent my high school days wearing outlandish outfits and never situating myself with any one crowd. Being uncategorized helped me feel like I could avoid the comparisons within a group. I could never be the dumbest one in the AP classes crowd, the sinful of the girl-next-door crowd, the uglier in the popular cheerleader crowd or the least athletic in a sports team crowd. I meandered and at first wore slutty clothing, enough to have my parents forbid me from wearing certain skirts and my 9th grade Physics teacher tell my sister about the inappropriate size of my shorts. I moved on to wearing different colored shoes on each foot, bathing suit tops over shirts, multiple tube socks and bright pink dickies. That blew over and I eventually started going to shows, wearing cut-off gloves and hanging out with meth addicts on house arrest despite being "straight edge." Having to hang out at a friend's house and invite people over for entertainment because she was on house arrest is usually a sign that you're hanging out with the wrong people but it took my parents' interference to bring me back to reality-- the only way for me to snap out of my obsession for attention if only for a little.

When crazy rigid haircuts, facial piercings, multi-color dyed hair and shitty tattoos were the qualities of my chosen culture, the most willingness I had to rebel against my parents was a self-done haircut. In attempts to make my hair big and choppy on top, I tied a bandana how I normally would when going out. I grabbed the scissors without any hesitation and I started cutting around my head in front of the bandana. This was the farthest I went because piercing my face, coloring my hair beyond the weave of highlights I was allowed and getting an underage tattoo would only encourage my parents to worry even more than they already did and possibly disown me. So instead of looking like an unruly, rebellious and "scene" hipster daughter, they were forced to live with one who wore shitty layered outfits with atrocious band hoodies and had hair that resembled a 24/7 yamulke.

See here:
This was a joke picture but not really..


It took me a couple years to grow from that trend, slowly evolving into a more normal looking human being but my attitudes towards myself still triggered negative behavior. Guys were always the "wrong" type despite my adherence to them like glue. Even through obvious signs, I always gravitated towards disrespect. As soon as I found Jiu-Jitsu at the age of 20, my identity was again defined. I obsessed over it but this time it was something of my own and it didn't revolve around others' opinions of me. It revolved around a healthy way for me to lose the weight I never realized I needed to lose, an outlet to become competitive in an organized sport, stay active and constantly be working towards goals. I never had goals or wanted to be the best at anything but competition, like I have said many times before, motivated me like no other. By my first year I was beginning to dissolve the self-esteem issues by adding in writing but I still made many mistakes in ruining a reputation I wasn't even concerned about at the time. Writing about Jiu-Jitsu gave me the voice I needed and the focus it took to get me where I am now alongside the mentors I've had in Jiu-Jitsu. Gold medals and well-received articles get me the high I crave instead of one-night stands, name dropping and attention-seeking outfits.

Today I get the attention through living a Jiu-Jitsu-centered life and writing about it. I'm given opportunities to cover events to which I can give insight through my own experiences. Of course I can't and shouldn't always take it personally but generally speaking, people are using me to get to what they want to know. Having the opportunity to go to Abu Dhabi and be the only person with information as to what it's like being there was a dream. Sure there were outlets to give you limited results, a live stream so you can watch one out of the ten active mats and some photographers to show you some of the action. But my efforts went into giving you the experience. I wasn't witnessing the training on the mats in the hotel by watching from a chair with my shoes still on, I wrote this article on a piece of paper while still sitting on the mats after rolling with Luiza Monteiro at the request of Gabi Garcia. Sure, I got my guard passed 7 times during the roll but being a part of it and regardless of competing while there or winning a ticket to get there, made all the difference. Being in the athletes' world instead of in the crowd makes all the difference in my writing. 

I may have rushed into things at the start of my Jiu-Jitsu journey, gotten involved with people in the wrong way, acted out in behaviors that showed self-hatred, but it was the combination of these downfalls and setbacks and overall bad decisions that led me to the opportunities I have today. I'm not kidding. People don't become wise by accepting everything they're told. You don't become revered for having said without doing and you certainly don't become respected for never risking anything. A weathered and worn person can teach you a lot more than an unscathed one.

I understand the importance of reputation and attitude but leading by example, mistakes and all, makes you a far better influence than anyone who pretends they're perfect.

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