The Competitor
Walk with me a minute as I momentarily drift off the Autism topic.
I won’t insult her by claiming to know the first thing about being a Freshman girl. But, I remember vividly being a Freshman boy, and it was an incredibly stressful time. All I wanted to be was a brick in the wall, to blend in, to be out of the spotlight of judgement and ridicule. I imagine it is similar for her.
Today she competed in her first High School gymnastics meet. This alone brings me pride and joy that I lack the vocabulary to express. But, there is more to the story.
You see, she isn’t part of the team. She IS the team. Literally, she’s the only gymnast in her High School. She could have chosen to go to a school with a large, established team, but for noble, valid and very mature reasons, she chose a smaller school with a barely surviving program. She could have chosen to move on from gymnastics and join a club or two for extracurricular credit. She chose to compete.
Today, her “team” suited up and competed with two other schools. One school had 18 gymnasts. The other had 4. She was alone. She entered the gym by herself. She wasn’t a brick in the wall. The spotlight was on her, as were the eyes of her competitors, judges and spectators. In this league, they don’t even recognize individual gymnasts with awards or medals. She knew that going in. She went anyway. She suited up. She competed.
And, she slayed it.
She did flips and tucks and dismounts that I could only dream of attempting. She showed poise and grit and toughness and grace. The other competitors cheered for her and made her feel welcome. The other parents complimented us on her skills.
After she finished, she put on her sweats and left the gym with no fanfare or recognition. We went to Ruby Tuesday’s for dinner. She wondered aloud what the point of it all was.
You’ll understand one day, Sweetie. I promise.