My first kickboxing lesson

I am using kickboxing as my new therapy.  Using it to help me overcome my fears, and to obliterate my feelings of helplessness and of being a victim.

In order to do that, I had to get to the Martial Arts place.  I have to be honest, I was really nervous about that - but I did it!  I went to my first kickboxing class.  My goals for this class were pretty short and sweet.  Not crying was at the top of my list.  Not getting punched, was also up there.  At least I achieved half...

Here is what I learned:

1.  I have not jumped rope since being in middle school - I now know why boxers do it to get/keep in shape.

2.  I am not as coordinated as I once thought I was.

3.  Getting punched in the face by a 12 yr old - not my idea of fun - but it will remind me to keep my hands up.

4.  Perhaps watching kickboxing prior to doing it, is a good idea.  Then you can get an idea of what you are supposed to be doing, and not feel like a total idiot.

5.  Saving up for my own boxing gloves is a must - those stinky, sweaty ones from the club are pretty gross!!!

6.  Punching does not come natural to me - blocking or cowering does.

7.  Practice will hopefully make perfect.  It will at the very least provide me with copious bruises...

8.  I did not expect to be hit with such overwhelming emotions.  I am being gentle with myself, and realizing there are many facets to my healing that still need to be done.


Here is where my new therapy begins.  I am a survivor, and I am choosing to empower myself.  I intend to face my fears and kick the crap outta them!!!

Have a kickass weekend everyone.  I will be icing my wounds and nurturing my soul.  How about you?

Project Ninja Suzie

I have been thinking alot about fear, and the effects it has had on my life.  One of my readers, Mathew, left a comment "fear dominates human feelings and emotion more than any other... The fact that you're aware of this is huge with regards to overcoming it," which has got me thinking more and more about fear.  I want to take more steps to overcoming my fear.

Our last poll showed that the majority of people who took the poll, when faced with physical fear they either run or hide.  So I see I am in good company.

WHEN FACED WITH PHYSICAL FEAR I

I started this blog for many reasons.  To share my story.  To hopefully enlighten and educate.  To help fellow victims of abuse, and lastly to help myself with my own journey of healing.  I have overcome and conquered many things along the way, but this fear thing is kicking me in the ass.  I think it's time I kicked back!!!!

I have decided to overcome my fears, and empower myself in the process.  And of course I will document my steps (and falls) along the way. I have decided to join my local kickboxing club.

Just so you know - I have never once thrown a punch in my life.  I avoid confrontation like the plague. And although I love me a good action movie, physical violence awakens that flight part of me that I am hoping to overcome.  I think kickboxing will not only be great for my self esteem, provide some self defence training it will also be an awesome fitness provider.

I can recall when I first left the Moron, I did not have much.  I got sole custody - he pretty much got the rest.  I would splurge on things like fresh fruit, milk, and once in a blue moon - Oreo cookies.  But they were all for the lil Pixie.  As a mom, its just what you do, your kids come first - in everything.

With all my jobs (I have one full time and 2 part-time, plus I volunteer at a couple different places) and being a single mom, money as well as time are pretty slim.  But I decided to bite the bullet and do something for me, for once.  I am sure all of you mothers know what I am talking about.  Your kids come first in all respects, and you are always last on the list for everything. But I decided my underwear can wait (they were at the top of my list).

My little sister said something to me the other day which has been gnawing at my consciousness.  She said (and I am paraphrasing) "By finding time, and allowing myself my own things, I am teaching my girls that I am important.  That I deserve it.  This in turn will teach them they are important and they too should strive to achieve their goals and claim them.  No one else is going to do it for them".  Now she isn't a selfish Mom who just does her own thing - but she has always made time (even if it's here and there) for her goals and her needs, while balancing them with that of the family.

I think victims of abuse have similar natures, or at least they are stripped of them so that they always put their Morons first.  They walk on eggshells to avoid conflict, they tiptoe thru life as to not to upset the delicate balance of the Moron's shifting moods.  They are brainwashed to feel like they do not matter, their lives and needs are below their Morons.  That is what I had become.

In some ways I still play the dance, as to not cause the Moron to take some kind of vengeance at the Lil Pixie's expense.  For instance, not allowing me to talk to her when she is on court ordered visitation.  I feel kickboxing will help boost my confidence, keep me in shape, and help me learn to deal with confrontation better (ie stand my ground instead of fleeing), and thus Project Ninja Suzie was born.

The cost is pretty steep (for me, anyways) - $80/month but I am hoping the rewards will be worth it.  So if any of you feel the desire to chip in a buck or two to help in this endeavour, I have posted a donate button below and in the sidebar.  No pressure - just thought I would throw it out there...

When someone threatens your life, or the life of your child, that fear never goes away.  But if you allow that fear to monopolize your life, then you give your power away. I will not lie, the thought of even starting kickboxing kinda scares me, but I want all my power back.  I need to step out of my comfort zone, and push my limits.  I am done with feeling weak and powerless.  I am done with having no control.  I cannot control what other people do or say, but I sure as hell can control what I do or how I react to it.  I will not be a victim anymore.  I am going to put on the gloves...

My line in the sand...

The morning after, the Moron went to work, and I caught myself feeling weightless and hopeful, but life had taught me otherwise.  It wasn't that hard, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop...

When the Moron came home from work that night, he acted as if everything was fine.  As if nothing had happened.  In the Moron's world, apparently life had reset itself and nothing had changed.  In my world, however, everything had changed, and I wasn't about to go back to my old life.  This was my line in the sand.

I calmly told him he had to move out.  To which he refused.  But I had inticipated this, and packed up the Lil Peanut and a few things and we were out the door and off to my sister's place (about 45 minutes away).  There was no way I was living another minute with him.  And I wasn't about to give him a chance to stop us.

My line in the sand had been drawn - and I was determined to make it stick.  I felt this yearning for more.  For better.  I wanted more, deserved better, and dammit the Lil Pixie was going to have better.  The 9 months of her growing inside me, as well as the year of her life, had strenghthened me.  Instilled a hope of more for us, provided a light for the me I dared to dream, for the me I once was.  To become my own happy ending.  This was my line in the sand, and if I crossed it, I would have nowhere else to go.  Nowhere but down.  And I wanted more.

Something awoke in me, and I wasn't about to let it lie.  My line in the sand is what held me strong in my fight.

The calm before the storm

After the Moron said "it was over" and took the Lil Pixie and left the room, I felt the most amazing thing.  Relief.  I felt as if the World had been taken off my shoulders, I felt lighter, and perhaps (though I didn't realize it at the time) I felt my world getting back on track.

The Moron had gone into the spare bedroom,and the rest of the day is a kind of blur.  I know at one point I had put the Lil Pixie down for her nap (afterall, I was really the only one who fulfilled the parenting duties unless he was putting on a show, parading her around town tires, hungry and always inappropriately dressed).

At one point in the evening when the Lil Pixie was down for the night, I went into the spare bedroom. The Moron was in bed with a pen and a notebook.  He had written on a piece of paper what was going to happen as a result of our breakup.  He was to get the house, since he was paying for it.  I was a grown woman, he said, so fully capable of taking care of myself, so no spousal support.  And we would split the Lil Pixie down the middle, he would get her for a year, then me for a year, so there would be no need for child support.

Despite it being incredibly warped in logic, it was the most mature conversation we had ever had.  The calm before the storm...