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After accepting this, the emotional healing began.
Thankfully,I’m at a place where I’m getting to know her, that sounds crazy, because I know her is me, soI’m getting to know and like who I am becoming. I’m living with the realityI’m not you… also sounds crazy…I’m not just a gymnast. I’m a daughter, a friend, a sister, a student rocking a four-point-O, without making it about being the top in my class. I’m finally letting go of the ingrained competitiveness and belief that if I’m not the best, I’m not good enough.
I digress.
The college experience has been a dream … mostly.
It’s only mostly, because this week has not met my expectations. As much as I love dressing up and hanging out with most of my sisters, the singing and constant raging on recruitment week is already becoming a bit redundant, and a bit is a nice way of putting it.
Three more days of singing at the top of our lungs makes little to no logical sense, as I’m pretty sure we all have the silly songs memorized.
So, Simone, even though you didn’t get the college experience, I am sure that your days at the gym were more exciting than this has been.
I am sure that recruitment week will be more fun than it was last year, since I will not be trying my best to make everyone like me. Instead, I’ll be helping find the girls who are the best fit for KET. Bid day will be epic, and then … I get to have my very own little!
Ending on 2 highs and a low.
H- My fit was epic.
L- My throat hurts.
H- Sophomore year is here!
Later.
X,
Riley
Day Four
Dear Simone,
Through the years, I have shared with you that I basically had to beg my parents for braces when I could have probably eked by without them for a couple more years, but because my friends had them, I thought it was cool. And of course that they would make me look less like an eight-year-old boy. After I got them, I hated them. They were so uncomfortable they hurt, and don’t get me started on the headaches after tightening appointments. If I could have removed them myself, which I tried, I would have.
I’ve shared with you that I only wore a bra because everyone else did, even though my brother, Owen, had bigger tits than I did. Then, when the titty fairy graced me with itty bitty titties, I was also graced with the most sensitive nipples ever created. They harden at even the gentlest breeze and were visible to anyone within a ten-mile radius. I hated them, too. Thanks to lined bras, boob tape, and those inserts that look a hell of a lot like chicken cutlets, I learned to deal.
My period would surely not disappoint me, for I would finally be all woman. Wrong! That was the biggest disappointment to date. Cramps and the inability to wear white—even after Memorial Day—during that time of the month, and the snickers and looks from everyone—even from my fellow female classmates—when I had to buy tampons or pads was something I never expected. I thought I’d been though all the tribulations a women must face … until I set my sights on wearing heels for prom.
What kind of sadistic motherfucker invented those torture devices? Don’t you worry, Simone; you don’t have to answer. I googled it. Men. Men invented the high heel. It’s unclear as to who exactly, but studies point to Egyptian butchers who wanted to keep their feet clean of animal blood. The other possibilities? Persian men for riding attire, or European aristocrats to make them taller. Regardless, as you know, I hate heels after literally falling during my senior year promenade and taking three people down with me. I took so much shit for being clumsy—me, a fucking ranked gymnast—by those snatches at school. The rumor quickly spread that I had a crush on the head cheerleader, Molly Muldoon’s, date. I mean, I did, but that had nothing to do with the fall that caused her to get a bloody nose that stained the white dress that looked more wedding than prom—desperate much?—when she was crowned. The crush had more to do with John Stevenson’s constant Snap messages telling me how hot I was. I mean, I am, but whatever. When I have to wear them now, it’s platform wedges, and I make sure the dress doesn’t touch the ground.
Here I am again, Simone, digressing when all I really want to say is this week has been … almost nothing like I expected. It’s been exhausting, and aside from the dressing up and being with my girls, underwhelming AF.
Ending on 2 highs and a low.
H- I lived, learned, and I’ve been polished.
L- My voice is nearly gone.
H- Just one more day!
Later.
X,
Riley
Chapter 5
