Olympic spirit

I love the Olympics! I get so excited every time they come around. I'm not sure why the Olympics effect me so deeply but they really do. I cry during the opening, and closing, ceremonies, I cry when my countrymen win medals, and I cry when dreams are smashed by spills, falls, or other mistakes. I love to root for the underdog, I feel inspired by the human interest stories of the athletes who've fought to achieve their dreams. Maybe it's because I've longed to achieve my own dreams and seeing others accomplish great things gives me hope. Perhaps I've always, deep down, wanted to be an Olympian. Or maybe it's just that I like being in the center of attention and watching the Olympics feeds my daydreams more than anything else. In any case, I love the Olympics and I'm so excited they are happening right now. The Vancouver Olympics began with a tragedy, and because of my apparently deep connection, I have spent a few sleepless nights and shed many a tear over the fallen Olympian whose dreams were taken by his untimely death. My thoughts and prayers go out to his family, friends, and his teammates, who are now dedicating their Olympic performances to him. I pray that all the athletes will be wary and cautious, but still not give up their dreams out of fear. Speaking of fear, I have some fears that I think may be holding me back from meeting my goals. I am afraid of being alone my whole life, afraid that no one will like me. What if I lose the weight and I still don't get asked out or find a man? My weight is an excuse, you know? It's okay that I don't have a date Friday because boys are just mean if they can't see past my appearance to notice how great I am. But what if I'm not that great? What if, what if, what if? At some point I have to just get past the what ifs and move forward. I have to find the strength within me to know that it's okay to be alone. It will be okay if I never get married. Yes, I want it, yes, I'll be sad if it doesn't happen, but I need to be okay alone. Somewhere in my youth I was taught about being a child of God. And, somewhere in my mind, I suppose I still know that. But, it's really hard to remember when so many things go awry. Somehow, through everything I've suffered, I still believe that God loves me. I just have to find a way to make that be enough to live with for now. I said that I would include something from my past in every blog. When I was in 6th grade, it was an Olympic year then, we had the opportunity to have an Olympian come to my class. She was a gymnast who was going to compete in the Summer Games. A lot of people expected her to be on the podium. She signed autographs for us and told us to hold on to our dreams because they could come true. I don't remember what exactly happened at the Olympics, but my Olympian (Melissa Marlowe, by the way), did not make it onto the podium. I was so disappointed; I was sure that if her dreams didn't come true then mine certainly wouldn't. I tore up her autograph and sulked for a year, at least. My dreams didn't come true then: my home situation got worse, and I had to do a lot of things I didn't want to do and give up some other things I did want to do. No way was I going to believe in that "following your dreams" hooplah again. Eventually I became less sour toward life, I even learned to allow myself to dream again. Someday I'm going to have everything I want in life, and nothing's going to stop me!