The Ring

  

No one forced me to be here

And yet— here I am

Time—and time—again

Constantly covered in bruises

Abrasions

Recovering from a broken nose

But— I still want to be here

 

‘Relax your shoulders’

The coach directs

I’m not even aware

That my arms are tense

 

Getting in to the ring

Not giving up

Fighting back

Respecting one’s opponent

Congratulating them on their strength

And skill

And for punching you in the face

 

Being mentally strong

Showing humility

Staying present...

 

I'd be lying if I said 

That the ring doesn't fill a gap for me

A way to ease loneliness

And to help me find purpose

A break from life's routine

That sometimes feels monotonous

 

My brother told me that boxing was designed

For people to overcome hardship

As a spectator

 I would never have understood that

But I see it now

 

At times when things were so bad

When I thought I had a brain tumour

Because I was so damn depressed

Not wanting to live anymore

Training was one of the only things

That helped me

 

My Mum— and many of my friends and family

 Refuse to watch me spar

Even when I assure them— that we are pulling back

That we are not giving all—of our strength and power

And that we are wearing (some)

Protective gear

They just want to protect me

Through not having me in the ring at all

 

I can’t quite justify to those outside of the ring

Why there is logic for me to stay in

Like some kind of intense religion or cult

 

Even if one day I fit the cultural mould

Married

Kids

‘Settled’

I hope I can still get in the ring

Cause it's good for me

 

The ring terrifies me

Yet it shows me what I am capable of

Strength and courage within me 

That I never thought was possible