raised by wolves

Just before I started kindergarten, my mom announced that we would be having another sibling.

I hoped with all my heart that it would be a girl.

So when my little brother was born, I was less than thrilled.

I only wanted a sister. That's all. I thought that no girl wanted a sister as much as myself, yet I was stuck with four brothers. FOUR.

A few years later, I had made a lot of friends, and they all had sisters.

After a few visits to their houses. I didn't want sisters anymore.

I've learned a lot from my brothers. And as they're growing up and amazing things are happening to them and their lives, I sometimes forget that I'm growing up too. I feel like I could sit and watch all the amazing things my brothers accomplish and not have to accomplish anything myself. 

My brothers inspire me to do better. To try harder. They make me a better woman by being splendid men. I often feel sorry for the guys I date and even just the guys I know, because they don't understand the standard that my brothers have set. I see my brothers and believe that there are guys that exist somewhere on this planet that are like them. And in my luck, I have come across a few that are pretty close.

Life is so interesting. We are born into families and because we're family, we become instant friends. I realize my brothers and I get along well most of the time because we were raised in the same household with the same rules and ideas on life. Yet we were all taught by different teachers, have had way different life experiences and are indeed in different stages in our lives. All the time. But somehow it all works out. I can happily say that my brothers are the best friends I have. They know what to say to make me feel better without knowing something is wrong. When we're together, we always have things to talk about. My brothers understand me when I say stupid things. 

There's something magical about it all. I sometimes wonder if I met men like my brothers if I would even hang out with him. Because maybe, what makes my brothers and I such good friends is the fact that we've bonded over the years. Although it didn't feel like bonding as it happened. The hours in the car to go on vacations where we all put our headphones in and read our books. I don't remember what we talked about as kids. But I know we talked. I know that we did countless things with each other. Which is why, even now, when we get together, we have no problems entertaining ourselves.

I'm sure others feel this way about their siblings. I'm sure I'm not really presenting anything new and different to the world. I just feel that I am so content in my life right now. I think it's because I am watching my brothers do all these things and have all these cool experiences. And this summer, I realized that so much of who I am is because of my family. We're all so far apart right now. It's weird for me to not have a sibling around. I've been spoiled enough for the past two years to always have one there for me. It's been a nice cozy college experience for me. If I felt lonely, or sad, or overwhelmed- seeing my brother always did the trick to make it all better.

Now it seems like I am truly on my own.

I am making a name for myself, by myself.

And it's strange.

But it makes visits so much more special.

Whether it's jumping into the ocean with one, or walking through Winco as he shops with the other, or watching the Little League World Series at the local burger joint with the other, I look back at these times and see them as some of the best of my summer.

And as the years go by, good times and bad will pass. But we'll get through it.

And although we're REALLY bad at communicating. Like really. That's just one of the not-so-perks of brothers...I'm determined to improve. And even if it doesn't improve. They're still my brothers. And they're still my friends. They aren't really wolves. But they have done a lot in raising me.

and now my fears, they come to me in threes

It amazes me constantly how cowardly I feel when I have courage. I feel like every day I find courage I didn't know I had. The courage to ask for help from a stranger. The courage to ask for help from a friend. The courage to speak up in church. The courage to speak up in day to day conversations. I've never had courage before. Or maybe, I've never noticed it before. But now that I have, I still find myself terrified to acknowledge it. Courage is like a superpower.

Courage is when your fears lose their power over you.

It's okay to be afraid.

Fears are our insecurities.

I don't like to be thought of as an insecure person.

Ever.

Who does really?

I usually don't know what I'm afraid of until it's staring me in the face.

But it's in that moment that I have to decide what is more important to me.

I like to think that I push my fears to the ground and they run away, never to return.

That's not always true though.

Sometimes, they come back- and I have to push them down again.

As school is starting, I'm realizing that I am terrified.

Not so much of failure

Lewis failed a lot. But it was awesome in the end.

I am mostly afraid of the idea that failing means that I have made the wrong choice for my life.

Again.

But life goes on- whether I'm afraid or not.

So I'll push my insecurities aside once more and hope they never return.

"And our dreams will break the boundaries of our fears"

Born To Run

My brothers and I were pretty big into comics when we were young. There came a time when I was in middle school when we had read every Garfield book that the library had and had made a good way through the Peanuts collection. So we started branching out. Along with Dilbert and Get Fuzzy, we also got into Pearls Before Swine. It was in this final book that I found this and I've never forgotten it:

Funny, right?

Well at the time I read it, I didn't laugh.

But it lead to my brother introducing me to Bruce Springsteen's Born to Run.

And let's face it, that song makes running away sound glorious.

Like it's an adventure. Like when you run away, you discover love, you can be any one you want to be. When you run, you are free and anything and everything can happen.

And that's pretty exciting. That song just screams "LIVE YOUR LIFE" to me. Maybe not to everyone else. But to me, that's how I feel.

So recently, I picked up a book: Born to Run.

Someone once told me that it's hard to sit and read this book because all you want to do is get up and run while you're reading it.

But I feel like so far (I definitely HAVEN'T finished yet), the book as taught me a little more.

Just as the song taught me to love metaphorical running. This book has taught me to love running. Yeah, I've ran a lot in my life mostly I prefer running for soccer and frisbee. But I've done quite a bit of running to simply stay in shape. But that was it.

As I've told people, "I run so I can eat ice cream and have rockin' calves."

But this book had me asking myself if that was the real reason and if that was a good enough reason. I mean, I could just do calf raises and lift weights at the gym. I mean, that works for a lot of people. But no, I run.

So I have reevaluated my desires and my goals.

And you know what, I love running.

And I run for legitimate reasons and I love to run for even more legitimate reasons.

The book talk about a lot of other really cool things.

Like how really, as humans, we're made to run and we can.

But that is for another post. I'm sick of talking about my over-injured body.

But really, if you're going to do something, know why.

"We'll run til we drop and never go back...because tramps like us, baby, we were born to run."

from the couch

when I was in the sixth grade, I fell off my little brother's bike.

if I could attempt to pinpoint the moment in my life when getting hurt became commonplace. I think that would be it.

shortly after this accident, I started playing soccer, and although only about 50% of my injuries in life have resulted because of soccer, it has played a major role.

in my mind, I have become invincible. I try anything because I am alive, and I am young and I am free.

yet, I like to throw myself at the ground and sometimes...the ground isn't cool with that.

upon my most recent fall, I texted my cousin and said "I'm so hardcore."

His reply.

There's a difference between being hardcore and being fragile.

I push too hard. especially that night.

there was this guy, he was being a jerk the whole night.

it was like he was trying to show off. but I'm not quite sure who he was impressing.

there came a point when I was guarding him and he said "throw it high, there's no way."

words cannot describe. not only did he make a stab at my height, but also my frisbee skills.

boy, I don't care how beautiful your face is (because really, he has a beautiful face). that isn't ever going to be endearing.

I have some great friends. friends who realized how rude it was, and also noticed how frustrated I was becoming. unfortunately, the more frustrated I become, the more reckless I also become. I started playing harder. Trying to prove that I was good enough. I was getting sore. I could feel my body getting angry.


then the pass came, I said in my mind "just going down on my knees, this won't hurt."
something happened.

couldn't stand. couldn't walk. so much pain. face in the grass.

carried home. put on the couch. given an ice pack.

and stayed.

for days.

not long after the fall. my roommate thought this was beyond comical. it's true.

I mentioned before that I have some great friends.

They took care of me.

I've been known to push through pain. But I was terrified to make it worse.

Knees are tricky.

So I actually rested. I hated almost every minute of it.

So much ice, so much sitting.

But it was good for me. I at least allowed the healing process to start normally.

I may be pushing through now. But I started it right.

I'm glad for friends.

I'm glad for healing.

and I know that I am fragile. and that maybe, I push too hard.

but I'm still alive, and young, and free.

so I'm going to keep playing.

"I can fit through there, you want to know why?"

I'm little.

I get it.

Ash is little, but that's what makes him fantastic. 

I don't see myself as little. This week, I have been reminded of such several times though.

And it always is a surprise.
My mom says I forget because I have such a big personality...
I don't know if that is a good thing or not.

It hits the hardest when I'm like, "oh, I'm not that short, I mean I'm taller than so-and-so."

and then a comparison is made and I am shorter or the same height as so-and-so.

But I never remember. I never see it as a defining quality.
But it kind of is.

And despite the fact that my friends think that I could pass as a 13 year old.

Even though I can't always reach things.

And various other things.

I kind of like being little.

Even though I don't always remember.

the love of the game

I don't think I can tell you the moment I first picked up a wiffleball bat.

And I don't know how many games my brothers and I played as children.

I don't know how to describe the countless Saturdays dedicated to Little League.

I can't count how many Stockton Ports games I've been to.

I don't know how many Oakland A's games I've been to.

I don't think I've ever mentioned it before, but now I will.

Baseball is kind of a piece of who I am.

When I think about it- most of my childhood memories involve baseball.

Or water...but that is a different story.

This past weekend, I fused the then with the now.

Baseball has entered my life once again.

And I love it.

I forgot that I loved it.

I forgot that I cared.

But I do.

There's this tiny part of me that wonders how I could ever let a love like this go. 

And how I could possibly find a way to love something else and just forget this part of me.

But it happened.

But somehow, baseball found it's way back.

And I couldn't be happier.

 

you can either give up, give in, or give it your all...

I often think back on life. Not so much as to dwell on the past, but more so to recall what I thought my future would be like. 

As I remember my ambitions, my secret desires and my sincerest hopes at different times in my life, I wonder what I was really like back then. I feel as if not much has changed about me. Yet those ambitions, desires, and hopes have all become much different.

I never imagined college life. Sure, I imagined getting a degree, and it's true, I imagined getting married at some point. But growing up, college was this giant roadblock between being a kid and living my dreams. I understand now that it's necessary. That I probably should have mentally prepped more for this time in my life. It's a time to take chances. A time when nothing is sure. A time for adventures. And a time to make choices that will determine the rest of your life.

What I use to expect of myself is now just a fleeting moment in the past. You can never plan your life. Well, I guess some people do. Some people know exactly what they want and do all they are capable of to achieve it. 

That was never me.

I never knew what I wanted.

A gymnast?

An artist?

A computer animator?

A psychiatrist?

A forest ranger?

A musician?

A math teacher?

At each time each of these "phases" came. I truly believed that was my calling in life. That is what I was truly talented at and able to do. Sometimes I like to think that I could have done any of those things. If I had really put my mind to it. What if I had just given up on these things?

And then I remember  that I don't want any of those things anymore.

I was discussing dreams and ambitions with a friend the other day and I mentioned how I can't even imagine why I ever thought I wanted to do something different than what I have planned now.

And I think that's what it's suppose to be like.

The way I see it, you can either give up on your dreams, give in to other people's dreams for you, or give your dreams all you have to give.

But you have to give.