Under Construction

Between the ages of 9 & 12, I managed to both break and sprain my right ankle. The break was clearly a backyard accident but the culpability of the sprain lies entirely on the head of that gargantuan sixth grade girl charging me as I tried to defend the hoop. She didn't get the basket and I didn't get to finish my season.

16 years (of ballet performances, volleyball games, personal training sessions, walking/dancing in heels, before school kickball games, treadmills, running after children, hopscotching and down right existing) later, I was told yesterday, I am missing an entire ligament that connects my ankle to the rest of me.

Sure, my ankle cracks, creaks, aches from time to time and hangs a little funny when I've got my feet up, but missing a ligament sounds kind of serious. Like when a trainer tells you she is surprised you can do everything you can kind of serious. As it turns out, my body [wonder that it is] has discovered a way to protect itself by overcompensating in some ways [tightening my Achilles tendon] to render and entire ligament unnecessary for more than a decade and [hopefully] ages to come.

Self-healed…far from perfect… but completely functional.

We, as humans, spend a lot of time assessing the figurative damages and scars events can leave in their wake. Ankles are fortunate enough to get casts and splints while broken hearts, spirits and promises never quite get the physical therapy they deserve. Aside from the trite notion that hardships build character, it turns out, without lacerations [of both the figurative and literal kind] we would never fully comprehend the joys of how freaking cool it is to depend on yourself. We are constructed to survive; we were not created to depend on external aid for our protection. No ligament? No problem. A victim of infidelity? You will discover a way to love you more than he did and survive to tell the tale of that guy you knew once.

Don’t get me wrong, trusting in your own will and welcoming the unpleasant brings along its own set of challenges...mostly in the form of what is left behind. Just as I might be able to tell you when rain is on the horizon by my gait, an individual who has been disrespected one too many times may take much more convincing that the person confessing his love is genuine. When we are ruptured, we cannot expect healing to return us to what normalcy once meant. Instead, we must have faith that rejuvenation will take us to a place we could have never predicted.

We are undeniably works in progress. 

Walking Under Construction signs preparing for the next great project to give us a reason to uncover our strengths. 

I do not advocate underestimating the strength of a sixth grader charging for a basket nor do I advocate actively seeking relationships which only mean to cause you harm. However, I do recognize the value of a certain self-respect, which only manifests, as the bottom seems to let out from beneath our lowest moments. Because when you are the only one left, you start depending on the right person. Trust yourself to heal, rejuvenate, accept, move past, and ultimately re-enter the game. 

~carter