Adjective, not Noun

I started writing these posts a few years back to make sense of who I was in my new context. I was a newer mom, and I was coming up for air, looking in the mirror and realizing I didn’t recognize myself anymore. I had been an athlete. I found myself thinking in terms of “I used to be,” like, “I used to be fit, used to be strong, used to be awesome.” So what was I now if I used to be all that back then? 

We all used to be a lot of different things. I’ve lived a lot of lives and worn a bunch of different hats. Part of me misses the fit of some of those old hats, but another part recognizes I’m not that person anymore. I’m left wondering where that leaves me. Am I still an athlete just because I made it such an integral part of my identity when I was younger? 

Recently, we started watching the newest iteration of American Gladiators. They’ve made yet another. It’s glorious. Just as ridiculous and campy as the old one. The gladiators are genetically engineered gods and goddesses in shiny spandex, and the contenders are a mix. Some are former athletes with something to prove. Some are YouTubers trying to build their brand, and I hate those ones immediately. We choose who to root for based upon vibes and judge quickly. Sometimes we like both. (There are always two male and two female contenders per episode, if you’re not familiar.) We’re not monsters.

Clearly I identify with the washed up former-athlete contenders. I actually said aloud one time, without sarcasm, that I thought I could’ve been on the show if it wasn’t for my bad knee. And then I laughed at myself because I sounded like Uncle Rico from Napoleon Dynamite. Plus, let’s be serious. I’d never make it past the hand bike.* 

So I don’t know that I consider myself an athlete anymore, but growing up an athlete sure as shit shaped the way I think. I’ve had to untrain some things as I’ve gotten older, like how every workout doesn’t need to be all-out. In fact, that would be harmful to my 40+ year old body nowadays.

I don’t feel the need to cling to the athlete identity anymore. The change has been gradual. Maybe I’m finally growing up. I’ve been thinking about identity in some form or another for a few years now. Maybe that was the real impetus for starting a blog. Well, that and the pandemic. It seems like we all want clear, concise ways to describe ourselves, to understand ourselves. We look for titles and categories, but oftentimes, unless you have a career that takes up all your time or actually makes you feel fulfilled, job titles don’t do it. Plus we are known to some people for our interests and others from different stages in life. 

Claiming a specific identity may be a way for people to try to control how others see us. That makes sense, right? I value the stereotypical ideals of an athlete, so I’m ok with or purposefully pushing the idea that this is how others view me. Maybe I value being smart, so instead of the traits of an athlete, I trade it for the identity markers of a heavy reader. Or whatever. You get the idea. 

Somewhere along the way, I was fed or adopted the idea that we should be the same everywhere, to everyone. I held onto that idea with claws for a long time, way too long. I now recognize it for the impossibility it is and have let it go. A person can’t be the same in a professional setting as they are at home with their family members. One can’t act the same around their kids’ teachers as they do with close friends. We all have many versions with multiple variations inside us. Maybe trying to hold onto one identity stifles us from being the full expression of ourselves in any given moment. 

I’ve decided it’s ok that I used to be an athlete but am still athletic. Adjectives rather than nouns. It gives more space. There are fewer requirements attached. 

God, it’s taken a long time for me to come to this decision. 

The idea that identity is a mental construct really messed with me for a while. The truth is, we are whoever we decide to be. Is it difficult to change? Sure, if you care a lot about what other people think. But seeing as I don’t owe anyone an explanation of who I am (and neither do you), making my own choices seems like the place to start. As long as I know who I am (and you know who you are), that’s enough.

*A really cool thing happened, watching both the old episodes of American Gladiators and the new ones. My boys declared that I could beat all but one (Zap from the old episodes - she was badass) of the gladiators. “Mom, you could totally take her,” was said by one of them, with total respect both for me and for the awesome women on the screen. I have so many feelings about this. One, they are growing up knowing that women can be physically strong. I’m part of that, sure, but it’s also around, out in the world more than it was when I was growing up.