Alright John Boy.....I'll bite.....here's my soul on the table.
Let's start by saying, I am an actual vaginal american.....I'm a girl.
In February 2011, I was sold a dream by a surfer boy. I don't know why he sold the dream to me, I was already giving him some......but anywho, I was told "I want to teach you to surf and sail." "Let's go kiteboarding" and things of that nature. Boy (Eddie) said, I'm leaving for 3 weeks, but when I get back we are going to do these things. Boy stopped calling.....matter of fact boy (who I was friends with for 4 years prior) never called again. It took weeks to confirm, but no he's not dead. I don't know why he chose to disappear WITHOUT A WORD and it broke my heart.....I didn't see it coming. But eff 'em.....I was sold a dream and I didn't need him to make it come true.
So March 18th, 2011 I was pushed into my first white water by another boy, whom will have my respect for life...and though I had no success I found myself stoked.....I wasn't expecting it. I spent the next 3 days in a row in the ocean, simply learning to survive. On the 3rd day, I tried to paddle out in what I now know to be awful conditions...at the time I was too green to know any better. As I tried my best to get out in 3-4 foot sea, at 5 seconds, with strong on shore winds something happened. My broken heart realized that Eddie didn't matter....actually I realized that nothing but what I was doing mattered. There was nothing but me, the waves, the wind, and the board. If I wanted, I had to do it. No one can give it to you, no one can take it from you. You can't buy it....you can't sell it. And all of a sudden I wanted it more than anything I had ever desired before. I raised my fist to the heavens and scream "FUK Eddie!" It was all LT Dan style.
I never made it out that day, actually I don't think I made it 40 feet off the shore that day, but something had changed.....inside I was different. I got in the water feeling broken by someone else, I got out more complete in myself than I had even been....I dare say I was reborn. This is a picture of that moment.....
Attachment 5342
I've tried to explain it to others but words fail me.....
This is the best I have managed to describe it so far......A lot of people surf for sport, but I’m not good enough to call it sport. To me it’s more of a spiritual experience. Anything that involves one ass kicking after another interrupted by perfect moments of grace, feels more like a religious experience than a hobby or sport. But a 1000 wipe outs is worth it all in that spilt second when everything comes together; when somehow some way I did just the right thing at the right time and I find myself riding down the line...and though it’s just for a moment, for that moment nothing else matters.
And just an FYI, it's been a year and 3 months now.....I moved from inland to the beach, I have spent hundreds if not a thousand hours in the water since. I've wiped-out and eaten shyt thousands if not tens of thousand of time since.....but now I found myself dialed in. I've become more than a girl with a broken heart, more than just a surfer, I am now a more complete me.....and even if I wanted to, I could never go back.
Originally Posted by spongedude
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