When John lived across the street from me, I had jumped at the opportunity to have him as my personal trainer–that is, jumped in my heart. My muscle spasticity had increased steadily for three years and had been worsened by two medicines that were supposed to decrease it. Consequently, physical therapists refused to work with me, probably unable to justify it with my insurance company. But I knew I was far from unable to progress, or, at least, stay the same, and I had felt like I was being thrown to the wolves. Thus, I lost hope, and the thought of John or of possible progress in my physical condition waned. Four years went by before I contacted John again, and by that time, he had moved to another state. I had lost my opportunity to have an exercise coach –that is, physically lost it.

But not psychologically! I realized. In the midst of so many disappointments and so much negativity, I had lost the validation that could come from anyone, anywhere, believing in me. I had plenty of my own faith in myself; I knew my warrior-like tendencies and my 37- year history with miracles. In my younger years, I had been able to do just about anything I set my mind on, and telling me I couldn’t do it was a sure-fire way to get me to do it. But  I guess somewhere down the line, my own validation became ‘not enough.’

Still, I will keep chugging along–with or without an exercise buddy. The ability to persist is one of those elements of identity that never goes away completely. I’ll be O.K. But like mine, our collective need is something to ponder. Sometimes one’s own drive is enough, but it always helps to have people cheering you on.

Please see my poem Someone There (in the ‘Poetry in Motion’ category) in loving memory of Lena Ricks.