Dear me,
The reward isn’t as good without the struggle.
I wish I could have hugged you and told you the first time that you walked onto the wrestling mat in your bright pink tights that wrestling would be your only focus, technique and style your only concern. But that would have dampened the struggle, and you are worth the struggle.
I wish I could have told you your greatest wrestling matches would be the championship rounds — but they weren’t, were they? They were the ones with feelings, emotions, prejudice, all those terrible things we cannot see but affect us more deeply than a dislocated shoulder or a wrenched knee. But you would not be as strong. You would not be as compassionate.
When some opponent forfeited a match to you — you thought you won and were happy. But now you understand. A forfeit, a giving up, is theft. It steals more than a victory. It steals dignity. It steals respect.
I wish you wouldn’t have had to worry about the torment other wrestlers experienced because of you. When you won the match, you should have been proud of what you achieved. But, rather than noticing those who congratulated you, you noticed your opponent in the corner crying. Why? Because their friends, coaches, parents, everyone ridiculed and humiliated them for losing to a girl. How do you celebrate your success when it brings emotional turmoil to someone else? Winning against someone who sees you as an equal versus winning against someone who sees you as lesser of an athlete because of your gender is demeaning.
I wish you didn’t have to wonder why you were “special” or “different.” I wish your thoughts could have remained as simple as “wrestling is just a sport I enjoy.” But they couldn’t. You understood the risks when you signed up. You made the decision to put yourself out there and participate in the sport. When you saw the person standing in front of you, you saw your opponent. There was no gender. The only thought in your head was: I have to win. Later, that thought fractured, allowing doubt to creep in; What did I do wrong to not be treated like everyone else? Why won’t they treat me like a wrestler?
These doubts were amplified by disapproval from teachers, from coaches, from teammates, from my parents, from competitors, from friends who all said things like: What are you doing here? Girls can’t wrestle…It’s not fair to the boys…You can’t win…You won’t last…Girls shouldn’t wrestle… But you asked yourself, Why am I here? To put it simply, the answer was because you enjoyed it. The more complex answer: because it completed you. None of the exclusion you faced was ever your fault. There was nothing more you could have done to prove yourself.
To answer all of your questions, you had to realize that you weren’t there for anyone except yourself.
Your greatest opponent was you.
Your greatest need was you.
Your ability to wrestle wasn’t determined by what other people thought or said about you. It is determined by what you say about yourself. When I say you are your greatest opponent, it’s because it is true. I wish you could have realized that sooner. You believe what you say about yourself. But you rarely give yourself the credit you deserve. The drive you have is rare and until you realized that life was very difficult.
Wrestling is so much more than a sport to you. It is a passion. Many things have come and gone throughout your life. Friends have changed, interests have changed, life circumstances have changed… but through it all your love of wrestling has not waivered. On days when you suck, or it’s hard, you dig deep. Wrestling gave you power and purpose in situations where you were hopeless or didn’t know where to begin. The genuine love you have for the sport, even when you hate it, is what determines your grit. Hard work, perseverance, resilience, and discipline are what determine your caliber as a wrestler on the mat, and the strength of your character off of it.
I wish I could have told you that it all eventually gets better. But I’m glad I didn’t. Where you are now is because of the adversity you faced. Without wrestling and the barriers you have overcome you would not be who you are today. You never would have learned the power of indifference, or the importance of discipline. You never would have learned the significance of being a humble winner and a graceful loser. You never would have discovered the potential you have. Though you did not see the value in the struggle then, now you understand it was well worth the wait.
Love,
Yourself.
BY ADRIANNA PRICE
Above, Adrianna Price during her wrestling career. This piece was submitted by Kathleen Kelley from Meeker High School’s college composition class. The prompt was “solving a problem.” Price wrestled for Craig because Meeker doesn’t have a girls’ team. Adrianna’s high school wrestling career was cut short this year by an ankle injury.
