The Ebb and Flow of Confidence

Yesterday, I felt great.

I was at the gym stretching before my students arrived for class when the big boss man asked me to help him demonstrate some boxing drills for his martial arts and police academy students.  I will admit, sometimes I hate doing this; gigantic tough guys who are in the process of working toward a career in which bashing skulls is not entirely frowned upon typically don’t want to be given instruction from a short girl with an attitude problem.  I shrugged and figured that it could be a good pre-class warmup.  Why not?

I showed them what to do, then boss paired me up with the lone female of the group:  she was significantly shorter than me, quite a bit older, and admittedly out of shape and uncoordinated.  It made me happy, though, because despite all of those things, she dived right into the drills.  It’s not easy to be the only girl in what amounts to a boys’ club.  You have to work twice as hard for half the respect, and you have to live with the fact that some men will never give you the recognition you deserve.  After I modified the drills to give her a chance to catch on, it seemed to click for her.  “I’ve never been able to do this!” she said excitedly.  “No one ever works with me because I’m the only girl, and I thought I just couldn’t do it!”

It warmed my heart, because I’ve been there before.  The first martial arts club I joined was composed of myself, one of my girl friends, and about 25 guys.  If my friend didn’t show up, I was hard pressed to find someone willing to work with me without condescension.  I’m fortunate now to be in a group with young men that have respect (and, sometimes, a healthy fear) for me and my abilities.

So I felt for her.  I took things slow, but made sure to give her constructive criticism where she needed it.  And she made progress in the short time we worked together!  Then she said, “You’re amazing.  You really are…  I’ve seen you in here with your class and your martial arts club, and I’m so impressed.  How long have you been doing this?”

I told her that I’d only been doing martial arts for about 4 or 5 years, and she said, “Wait, how old are you?”

“27!”  I told her.  It’s one of the first times I’ve said it since my birthday, so I had to think about it.  I hate when someone asks me a simple question, like my name or age or birthday, and I can’t answer it without critical thought.  It makes me look mentally deficient.  But I digress.

“Really?!  I thought you were like 18.”

And there was much rejoicing.

Later that evening, one of my fitness students asked me if I could put together a stretching routine for her to do outside of class.  I cheerfully agreed, as I am thrilled when anyone recognizes the importance of flexibility in a workout regimen.  I gave her my email address and, as she left, she said, “Thanks so much!  You’re really a great teacher!”

Well, all of these wonderful comments got me thinking.  I’ve been offered many lovely compliments in my day but I typically disregard them, as I am insane and have aggressively low self-esteem.  I think I should try to be a little more accepting.  So to start, here is a short list of things that I’ve been called that I hope to someday live up to in my own mind:

• Unapologetically sassy
• A stone cold badass
• A beast (to be honest, I have been called this with both good and bad intentions)
• A good worker (HA!)
• A good friend
• A good girlfriend
• A good Nancy (I love this one;  it’s a weird thing to be called, but after some thought, it’s absolutely perfect)

Fresh off my grateful student-related high, I came to work this morning with a smile on my face.  Then, around 11:45, I came to the realization that I had been wearing my underwear inside out all day.  Thanks, universe!  I didn’t want to get a big head or anything.