So yesterday I did something new. (Well, perhaps not new, but definitely within the past ten years of experience).
My husband is of the video-gaming persuasion. You know the type. The guys that sit in front of the TV frantically pushing controllers and screaming random obscenities at the pixels shooting at them. The guys who have absolutely no idea what's going on in their immediate surroundings for hours at a time (though I must say I can't be too harsh on him, since this is what happens to me when I'm immersed in a good book!).
All this goes to say that my husband really, really wanted me to go play paintball with him and his other video-gaming friends yesterday. Now, I consider myself pretty fit and feisty, though I'm not the best at first person shooters. (Usually I get slaughtered while shooting at the floor. I'm more of a Zelda kind of girl.) When the husband first brought up the possibility of my going I had visions of orange paint and red welts drenching me from head to toe. Visions of being surrounded on all sides and getting lit up like a tiki torch.
Turns out real life is different than video games.
I actually did pretty well. On a field with four other girls and about fourteen guys I managed to stay alive most of the time. Not only that. I SHOT people too. And leapt over crevice canyons to get into forts and waded through swamps.
And I wore camo.
By the end of the day I was sore (I did get shot several times. By my husband actually. Our friends thought it would be hilarious to make us captains of opposing teams and pit us against each other.) but I couldn't have been happier. When I was babbling about how awesome it was in the car my husband pointed out that I'd been less than enthused about going. And "wasn't I glad I just went ahead and did it?"
He then went on to remind me about the time I did not go bungee jumping. It looked a little bit like this:
That tiny dot in the middle of the picture is my husband. I was behind the camera, sitting on a cliff, wishing I hadn't said no. You see, before we got to the bridge, I was thinking through the scenario in my head. I imagined myself standing at the edge and looking down and now wanting to fall. I didn't think I could do it, so I didn't pay the money/put down the deposit. I spent all afternoon watching person after person in our tour group jump off a bridge without me.
I've regretted it ever since. I now know I could've jumped. And I would have loved it.
You are braver than you think. Stronger than you know.
So try new things.
My husband is of the video-gaming persuasion. You know the type. The guys that sit in front of the TV frantically pushing controllers and screaming random obscenities at the pixels shooting at them. The guys who have absolutely no idea what's going on in their immediate surroundings for hours at a time (though I must say I can't be too harsh on him, since this is what happens to me when I'm immersed in a good book!).
All this goes to say that my husband really, really wanted me to go play paintball with him and his other video-gaming friends yesterday. Now, I consider myself pretty fit and feisty, though I'm not the best at first person shooters. (Usually I get slaughtered while shooting at the floor. I'm more of a Zelda kind of girl.) When the husband first brought up the possibility of my going I had visions of orange paint and red welts drenching me from head to toe. Visions of being surrounded on all sides and getting lit up like a tiki torch.
Turns out real life is different than video games.
I actually did pretty well. On a field with four other girls and about fourteen guys I managed to stay alive most of the time. Not only that. I SHOT people too. And leapt over crevice canyons to get into forts and waded through swamps.
And I wore camo.
By the end of the day I was sore (I did get shot several times. By my husband actually. Our friends thought it would be hilarious to make us captains of opposing teams and pit us against each other.) but I couldn't have been happier. When I was babbling about how awesome it was in the car my husband pointed out that I'd been less than enthused about going. And "wasn't I glad I just went ahead and did it?"
He then went on to remind me about the time I did not go bungee jumping. It looked a little bit like this:
That tiny dot in the middle of the picture is my husband. I was behind the camera, sitting on a cliff, wishing I hadn't said no. You see, before we got to the bridge, I was thinking through the scenario in my head. I imagined myself standing at the edge and looking down and now wanting to fall. I didn't think I could do it, so I didn't pay the money/put down the deposit. I spent all afternoon watching person after person in our tour group jump off a bridge without me.
I've regretted it ever since. I now know I could've jumped. And I would have loved it.
You are braver than you think. Stronger than you know.
So try new things.
I really enjoyed this post - so much truth it was like a breath of fresh air. It's a very good thing I stumbled upon your post in the YA Highway Query series which in turn led me here. Looking forward to your published book and until then I will enjoy your posts!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Emily! I'm glad you enjoyed it! Hope you stick around!
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