No One Has to Worry About Me.


You might think I’m some hard-bodied babe or a bad-a$$ bully girl, and that would be wrong. I’m too soft, I’m very cuddly, I am insecure, and I have a hard time sitting down on the ground. Lately, I have a hard time sitting in a chair or sleeping in bed. Most of the time something hurts. A lot of the time I feel inadequate and klutzy. I always wonder what I’ll be when I grow up, when I’ll peak professionally or personally, or if I missed my chance altogether.

I am no one’s competition.

chili pepper bandanna
I’ve had chili pepper bandannas for a long time to dab my sweat and tears.

There are some of you who know me and will say to yourself:

  • I’m a better writer than her.
  • How did she get him to marry her?
  • What kind of mother is she?
  • I can swim, run, and bike better than she can.
  • She’s fat.
  • She’s got the worst hair.
  • She tells stupid jokes and she’s so not funny.

I am embarrassed by my mistakes, I’m forgetful, and I let my family and friends down a lot.

I wish I didn’t. I wish I were better. And I guess that’s why I’m not ready to give it all  up and say I don’t give a sh^t. Because I do. The swimming, running, and biking are ways I deal with my body and my body image. This blog is how I deal with the demons in my head, and the occasional personal victory and attagirl I want to give myself. At work I try, try, try.

Last night I rode my bicycle up Kilauea Avenue three times. It wasn’t that hard. It wasn’t that easy. And although I was with a group, I had to break away, I had to do it at my own pace and not on someone else’s wheel. At the top I circled a few times before descending, heart still racing, double-vision from my tears that seem to fall when the wind blows at my face.

At the bottom I reach for my bandanna and dab my eyes, down shift, and head back up.

Seems I’m always dabbing my eyes and heading back up.

Author: lavagal

Hawaii Kai wife and mom. Melanoma Stage 3a Cancer survivor. English Language Learners Coordinator and Paraprofessional Tutor. Super sub teacher. Dormant triathlete. Road cyclist and Masters swimmer. Gardener. Mrs. Fixit. Random dancer. Music Curator. A teenager trapped in an aging body. Did you know 60 is the new 40? It is.

8 thoughts on “No One Has to Worry About Me.”

  1. She is a great writer!
    John’s the lucky one.
    What a mother!
    I can swim, run, and bike and wish I did it as often as her.
    She’s well-rounded.
    Love those curls.
    Tell me another joke to laugh until I cry!

  2. Awww. I luvz youz guyz! Interesting. When I woke up this morning, there was a tweet about how people prefer to read this kinda blog entry than the high and mighty glory days kinda stuff. This often gets the most feedback for me, but I like writing the fun stuff, too. Hugs to you all! Thank you so much for caring!

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