I'm Not That Kind of Girl (And Other Lies We Believe)
I was never an athletic kid.
I took on the identity of clumsy and uncoordinated early on. Accident-prone, certainly. I thought athletes were naturally gifted at running. You were either fast or slow. If you were tall, you were good at basketball. If you were fast, you were a naturally good swimmer.
I was neither tall. Nor fast. Swimming scared me in a lot of different ways. So, I stuck with the stuff that I was naturally inclined to. Music, being on stage, dance. Fluid movements for fluid gifts.
There are some people who are just naturally good at all the things. But for the rest of us, for me, I stuck with what was safe. With what I knew was in my wheelhouse.
It wasn't until I graduated college that I began running. There, my competitive drive and inclination for distance grew. I ran my first 5K. A few 10Ks here and there. At 26 I ran my first half-marathon.
I love running. I love my breath feeling sharp in my chest. I love my feet hitting the pavement, listening to a podcast, and the feel of the heat of the sun touching my shoulders. It's a different world. It's a world where I get out of my head and only concentrate in the here and now.
I'm not the best at it. Not by a long stretch. But for so long I told myself I'm not the kind of girl who runs.
So I didn't.
Lately, I've come to realize that I wasn't an athlete because I wasn't athletic. I wasn't an athlete because I never tried. I never trained. Not because I'm afraid of hard work, but because I was afraid of trying something and not being good at it right away.
When I laced up my running shoes a few nights ago - the first good run of the season - I found myself wondering what my life would be like if I hadn't pushed through the fear of not being good at something right away.
What if I never became a runner?
And, in that same light, what other bits of my life have I shied away from for fear of failure - for fear of not doing it perfectly right away?
What if everyone thought that way?
What if no one ever went on dates because they were afraid of break ups?
What if no one ever became parents because they were afraid of raising jerk-kids?
What if no one ever went back to school because they were afraid that even after a master's-level course they still wouldn't be employable?
What if no one ever blogged or wrote stories because they were afraid they'd never get published?
What if everyone spent their whole lives saying: I could never do that. I'm not that kind of girl.
I've spent my whole life thinking I wasn't the type of person who was fashionable, healthy, a leader, or even successful.
So, I have spent almost thirty years living as though I was not those things. And could never be. I'd tell myself over and over again:
I could never video blog.
I could never lead a team.
I could never breastfeed in public.
I could never move past hurt or failure.
I could never write or publish an e-book.
I could never build a platform to get a book deal.
I could never be friends with people like them.
I could never have that type of haircut.
I could never rock that kind of job.
I could never. I could never. I could never.
I'm not that kind of girl.
But, when I lace up my pink running shoes, and run laps around the sidewalks – still with red lipstick on, mind you – I realize I and everyone else can be whatever type of girl we want to be.
We just have to work for it.
There's nothing magical about the people who do the things you want to do. There's nothing sensational. There's no X-factor, there's no level of IQ (unless you want to be an astrophysicist...maybe?).
The people we admire likely have off-days, too. They probably feel just as skittish in front of a crowd or sitting in a salon chair.
But they work. They're doing it. They're risking failure. They're risking looking dumb or not put together.
They're working toward being the type of person they want to become.
Be a runner. Be a photographer. Be a business owner. Be whatever. Be that kind of person.