Let me paint a picture; You’re in second grade and it's sports day. You’re dressed in your school teams yellow shirt. Not the yellow shirt with the magpie on it because your mum couldn’t afford that, but a yellow shirt none the less, and the teacher asks two team leaders to take turns choosing who they want on their team.
One by one, each of your peers are chosen to be on a team and as the options decrease you start to think 'surely Jasmine likes me enough to pick me?'
But they all know you're poor. They all know your clothes weren’t freshly washed and ironed for school that day and they know you don’t attend any recreational sports clubs after school. You’re the outcast.
Or that’s how it feels anyway. Perhaps they were just kids choosing their closest friends and you just weren’t one of them because you're shy.
Whatever the reason, you find yourself wondering why nobody likes you. Why nobody chooses you. Everyone else has been chosen and you’re the last one standing there and the teacher delegates you to Michaels team and since he chose all his friends; they’re mostly boys and sigh in the “we’ve already lost the game” tone because another girl has just been added to their team.
Cue insecurities and a hateful relationship with sports. Cue the girl that avoided any sport activities like the plagué. Cue the girl who struggled to join in any group activities through fear of being rejected.
That child was me and now 32 years later that feeling of never fitting in or being somebody’s choice has never left me.
My inner child still feels that deep pitted pain of being left out and rejected. It feels like I’m never anyone’s first choice.
So join me as I show up unapologetically me in a bid to find myself and discover who I am or what I’m supposed to do in this beautiful messy life.
Watch me choose myself, first time and everytime.
Because I deserve to play and have fun on sports day too.
Love, Trina x