“I was looking at your Instagram the other day and was like wow she looks like a really classy and graceful woman.”- Random People
Well girl, this is where the saying “pictures are deceiving” comes to a whole new meaning. Classy, ok I can see that every now and again when I want to be. But graceful? That is one word anyone close to me knows should never be used to describe me. I am the definition of butter fingers. My own family calls me “Grace” as a joke.
My entire life I have been a klutz. There is not a time period I can remember where I didn’t go a week without getting a scrape on me or someone else because of something I did. Falling off my bike was an every other day occurrence. I’ll never forget the time I came inside crying from yet another bike wreck with another bloody knee and my dad saying to me “If you don’t stop falling down all the time you are going to grow up and have ugly legs when you become a woman.” He was right, of course. I already scar bad enough but as a 22 going on 23-year-old young woman I still have my eight year old scars that stick out loud and proud.
When I could start playing sports I chose soccer. I was able to release energy and it was also an aggressive enough sport (15 years ago, not anymore) to where I could be physical on the field instead of off. After almost every game my whole body would be banged up with bruises from falling down and getting kicked.
My favorite sport memory was the one season I actually played basketball. I only lasted one season because I got elbowed in the eye. I didn’t just get a black eye like everyone else probably would have. The boy whose elbow that made contact with me straight up hit my eye so hard it knocked me down and broke a blood vessel on my eyelid. It swelled up so fast with blood I thought I went blind in that eye. Everyone made fun of me at school and told me I was ugly. It never bothered me much though; I thought it was cool how it turned all sorts of colors when it was healing.
Middle school was a little less violent. I didn’t play sports and didn’t have many friends yet so I stuck to myself most of the time. During gym classes I would of course fall all the time from tripping over myself. Even walking down the carpeted hallways proved to be an issue for me. Rug burn became my signature mark.
The first year of high school is where things started to get really bad. We had flights of stairs that I would fall UP at least once every other week. I spilled my lunch a few times in front of everyone that was in our huge cafeteria. And the worst thing that happened… I fell off my cheerleading float right in the middle of the homecoming parade. A child ran out in front of the truck that was pulling the trailer that we were on so the driver slammed on the brakes. I was standing too close to the edge and not paying attention to what was going on around me and fell face first onto the pavement landing right on my knee cap and elbow. It hurt so bad I almost threw up and wanted to cry, but I didn’t want to look like a baby and cause more of a scene. Instead I waited until we were parked to release the pain I felt. Four years later I thought everyone forgot about what happened that Friday evening. They didn't. One of my best friends mentioned it in her speech at Baccalaureate and had the whole room laughing.
The next year I one upped myself. My high school had these crazy pep rallies once a semester. Each class would get together and make up a routine to show school spirit. Everyone made sure to make it to school that day. Aside from the classes putting on a show, each sport team was introduced to the whole school and our names where called individually. When it was my turn I decided I would do a round off back tuck. Well, I had just learned this tumbling skill about two weeks prior to the pep rally so I hadn’t perfected it yet. I put a little to much power behind my tuck though and over rotated, landed on my heels, and did a back summersault. The crowd gasped and got pretty quiet and it felt like time had stopped for a second. “You have to recover from this fast” I thought. My first reaction you ask? I super starred it. I raised up on my knees and threw both hands up sporting double “peace signs.” It was epic honestly, but never the less another embarrassing fall to write down in my record book.
These events where some of the most humiliating moments in my life. Since then I have many more scratches and stories behind my scares. I am always dropping objects (mostly my iPhone) and falling over things. Just the other day, as a senior in college about to graduate I fell up the stairs yet again, spilling hot coffee all over me and my purse on the ground.
I hope I will outgrow my clumsiness as I get older, but for now I guess I’ll continue to be a not-so-secret, ungraceful KLUTZ.
