I went to karate last night. I haven’t trained in a year and a half, since moving to a new town, and I avoided going because new authors are very poor and because it’s different going to someone else’s dojo. Where I came from, I mostly taught. I was in charge. I was the Queen Shiz of the class.
For the past few months, I’ve been lost in Identity Land. I know other professional women who’ve given up the status of their careers to shift to a job that lets them work from home and mostly just be a mom (hint: they’re all authors). The longest I’ve managed to stay home with my sanity intact was one year. I haven’t even made it that long this time, and I did write and publish a book (enter a giveaway), but I’ve been restless and feeling sort of worthless.
I lost my Badass.
And I look exactly like a frumpy housewife. I was raised by a mother who has a mortal fear of just being a mom, dependent on a man to fund the family’s groceries. Looking back, I think she chose to marry the worst man possible for having grown up with that fear (her dad died young and left her mom without even a driver’s license), and I think that she always needed to know that she could leave and still have pretty much 100% of the family’s income. My dad had jobs on and off, but mostly hid out in his scrap lumber geodesic domes hiding from Vietnam demons and teaching karate.
Yep. He taught karate. It’s always been a part of my life even though I didn’t start training until I was 23, after my second son was born. And I love it. Actually, that’s an understatement. It would be more accurate to say that it’s almost as important to me as breathing. Sure, unlike breathing, I could live without karate, but would I want to?
That said, I found a dojo. I went last night with the intention to ‘just watch.’ My husband has been trying to get me to go for over a year. He even told me last night that I should put on my gi pants or even yoga pants ‘just in case’ I decided to work out with the class. I was only going to watch a class, so I went with my makeup on and jeans. I thought that would be enough to keep me in a chair.
Hahahahahahahahahahaha! Ten minutes into the class I took my shoes off and stretched and did the whole workout in jeans and an underwire. I was stoked to see that I still got some moves, baby. I came from a very traditional dojo, and this dojo mixes in a lot more sport karate and MMA, so Mama’s gonna learn a lot of new moves.
I’m in a state of euphoria today. I feel…like me.
And I have one last thing to say.
Honey, you were right all along. I should have listened to you. Next time, to be honest, I probably won’t listen to you, either, but hopefully I’ll have the guts to admit that you were right again.