Kids aren’t really afraid of asking for help or falling. I don’t know exactly when I became afraid of doing both of those things, all I know is that I am. It’s not really a matter of raising a hand when you need help or sticking on a band-aid when you do fall. Twenty-ish and I feel like I’ve lost that carefree abandon. Or maybe I’ve simply misplaced it. So now I’m taking baby steps, doing one thing that I’ve pretty much written off since elementary school: learning how to ride a bike.
Kids are fearless. They ride bikes without thinking of cuts and scrapes, bruises and broken bones. Just thinking of mounting a bike I imagine I’ll end up in some emergency room. But it’s so simple. Kids do it everyday.
I realize it’s pretty silly to keep shrugging it off. There’s never been a more crucial time to relearn how to ask for help or to tackle an obstacle I’ve previously given up one more time (or two, three, etc). I hope that if I start with something so small, so trivial as riding a bike maybe I won’t feel the same debilitating fear as I tackle the bigger, scarier “monsters” in life. It’ll probably feel embarrassing, awkward and completely ridiculous but at least I can bypass the whole “no ice cream before dinner” bullshit and stick on my own band aids because I damn well can.
But first, I need to ask for help. And like most instances where you’re mortified before the words even begin to form, I’m calling one of my best friends. He’ll laugh, sure, but at least it’s a laugh I can deal with, and one that will find my shaky handle bar steering endearing instead of pathetic. It’s been quite a while since I’ve frankly had to ask for help, but hopefully “it’s like riding a bike”. Even more importantly, I might actually find some meaning in that ridiculous saying after shyly admitting “but I can’t” over the years. Wish me luck!
twenty-ish 