“YES!” I cackled through my mouthguard and high-fived the fifteen-year-old boy who had just kicked me in the head. I was proud of him that he’d gotten one over on me and proud of myself that I was becoming more aggressive and adept at sparring with the guys in class. He flashed a confused braces-lined smile and we slapped our cotton-padded paws in the air. A few minutes and another blow to the head later I had a realization.
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A Visit From an Old Frenemy
The dojang is usually my happy place.
For a few minutes last night, though, it was the last place I wanted to be. As soon as the first round of sparring began my mood crashed and burned. Suddenly my instructor’s guidance sounded like taunts and my partner’s attacks felt like physical manifestations of all my shortcomings. This of course was all in my head. Neither one did anything wrong. They just happened to be in my line of sight when my old friend Low Self-Esteem decided to play. All my flaws were exposed, and there was nothing I could do about it. I was pissed.
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Redirecting the Blog, Bruises, and Boys
This blog has started to take a self-development/self-help/change-yourself-change-your-life vibe, which was part of the package, but it’s starting to overshadow my taekwondo journey other than my weekly Poomsae Series. It’s starting to lose its story arc and the context behind the life lessons. I’m going to make a better effort to tell stories from the dojang on a more regular basis.