I’m just your average overeducated and underemployed girl dealing with a breakup–from my roller derby league. After five long years and an ending that doesn’t feel like it has actually ended yet, I’m ready to release the Story Time Kraken of Feelings into the Internet Ocean of Anonymity. Because therapy is totally out of my price range, and if I hit people NOW it’s assault.
This blog is about five years of derby and of having to say goodbye to the league I started with, gave my heart to, and eventually had to break up with. It’s about a toxic relationship–who knew you could have them with more than just people? It’s about the good times, too–don’t get me wrong. It would be pigheaded and foolish of me not to mention them, they were there in plenty. For awhile, anyway. It’s about the terrible times, and the things that will kick you right in the chesticles. It’s about starting off as a Peteronella Pan and emerging a–well, I’m not really sure yet, because while I have certainly matured (or at least changed) I’m still not convinced I’m a grown up, although maybe I’m as close as I’m going to get. It’s about getting older and less and less bullshit tolerant. It’s about thinking things like “sportsmanship,” “camaraderie,” and “sisterhood” should be more than just buzzwords. It’s about a hatred of hypocrisy. It’s probably more than a little about disillusionment. It’s about the diehard belief that poking fun at the bad guys will make my world feel a little better. It’s about the safety of anonymity, which is the only way I can get all of this out and maybe eventually move on. It’s about ridiculous nicknames for people I don’t like so much anymore, and struggling to find benign nicknames for the people that I still do, Like, that is. Most of all, it’s about a breakup. Once I thought a breakup was ending things with some guy (or having some guy end things with me). These days, I realize that breakups can be so much bigger. That you can break up with an organization, heck, with an ideal, and that it can be just as painful, just as big (heck, bigger even) than the most painful romantic breakups you have experienced.
You can love a thing or an ideal just as much as you can love a person. And when it breaks your heart, it’s a doozy.
Ultimately, I really do hope it’s about moving on. But before that can happen, I have stories to tell. And one Story That Must Never Be Told (Ever[No, Really]).