If you wanted to be remembered more fondly, you should have behaved better.

I’ve waited too long to tell this story and, in doing so, have prevented myself from completely healing and moving on. I’ll open with a little recap for anyone new or who wasn’t paying attention when it was happening. 

I started roller derby in April of 2012. I was old and out of shape but determined.  Held back by crippling leg pain (I later learned was anterior compartment syndrome), I had the skills down by my first attempt at the test but it took more than a year to pass my laps and take the track in my first game. During that time, I looked for other ways to help. I held a very profitable silent auction, signed a lucrative sponsorship, and NSO’d. Shortly after that first game, running unopposed because no one else wanted the job, I was “elected” league president.

I went from being worthless fresh meat to resented leader but my heart was always in the right place. I was transparent in my communication because it is a member-owned organization and I made unpopular decisions based on the needs of the business rather than what the popular members wanted. They could hate all they want, no one else stepped up to do the job. 

I went from being worthless fresh meat to resented leader

I have felt since then that the transition from Fresh Meat to President robbed me of the chance to build a group of friends. People who talked to me before I became president seldom did anymore. I was excluded from social gatherings unless they were official. All the while, I urged my husband to continue volunteering, including the replacement of several gun-laden logos and creation of new ones for two new teams in the league. I traveled to playoffs at my own expense to learn about what went into it so we could bring them to our city – and we did, too, hosting D1 WFTDA playoffs in 2015 which is still the only time derby at that level has been played in Florida. 

Despite this triumph, I was even more hated within the league because I sided with my best friend and not her charismatic coach boyfriend when he started to mercilessly abuse her. 

This was before #metoo and #believevictims and their situation played out in the court of league public opinion. Since he didn’t beat her and they had been happy before, obviously her claims must have all been lies. He was so jovial and generous! He was smart and funny! He was also seen as harmless and impotent in the way that young and beautiful women write off men they aren’t interested in but are nice to because they can get things from him. 

I digress. I won’t tell their whole story as it is not mine to tell. I will summarize to say that he was a narcissistic abuser and that she was granted 4 restraining orders so at least the judge believed her. 

Since I had very publicly sided with her before he turned his abuse on me, my response and the league’s response were seen as biased punishment executed against him by me on her behalf. In truth, I recused myself from the discussion and the decision because I knew there was conflict of interest.  His offense, in the eyes of the league, was a Facebook post airing league dirty laundry for which he got a 2-week suspension. Since I also made a Facebook post, albeit with no mention of the league, I insisted I take the same punishment.  Once there was a restraining order against him, it wasn’t up to the league, it was the law. I was still being blamed for “how the situation was handled,” despite having nothing to do with it beyond being there for my friend as she went through this terrible time.

Once he complied with the judge’s terms and the restraining order was dropped, the league leadership decided to let him back in. As I was still the president and not even told this was on the table, I resigned the presidency.  It was too full of stress and bullying and heartache to continue with people who I couldn’t trust.  Since I had also been working on sponsorship (there was no active chair despite there being 70+ people in the league who decided they didn’t need to pitch in at all), I told them I couldn’t continue with that any longer either. This was largely due to the demands of my day job and not all the drama. I simply saw some work that needed to be done and did it but couldn’t be accountable for it all the time.

In quitting both jobs, league leadership also took away my captain position for my home team.  What’s worse is that this punishment was indefinite! No one could or would tell me when it would be over. This was against league rules we had adopted the previous season to prevent egregious punishments. When I tried to appeal to the disciplinary committee, the response I received was from the league secretary which was also not how that was supposed to work.  Later, I was told of secret meetings that took place to manage me out – because I #believevictims? I can’t even believe I am telling this story about grown adults.

Why didn’t I just leave? I enjoyed playing the game. It pulled me from the brink of multiple metabolic illnesses. I didn’t know how I was going to keep that up if I quit and, truthfully, I haven’t. It wasn’t until my son underwent severe bullying at school that I fully saw what was also happening to me. I knew I couldn’t stay and set that example for him. 

More than a year after being declared such a liability I couldn’t even be trusted to captain a home team, I was still the primary signer on the league bank accounts.

I had given so much and was quickly written off like I never mattered at all.  More than a year after being declared such a liability I couldn’t even be trusted to captain a home team, I was still the primary signer on the league bank accounts. I could have literally withdrawn every penny the league had without recourse because I was the account owner.  Such hypocrisy! I can count on the fingers of one hand the people who reached out with support and still have fingers left over. I am still friendly with those people though I really can’t bear engaging with them beyond social media niceties because I am still mad about this. I was treated so unfairly and put out like the trash. 

In case you’ve come this far and still think this could still be a case of he said/she said, the charismatic coach has since embarrassed the league with a violent tantrum while at an away game and has since been permanently expelled.  Sometimes I think how it would cost zero dollars for anyone from the league to reach out and apologize. Most of the time I know how little I want anything to do with anyone who thinks it’s ok to treat people the way they treated me and my friend. 

And Now my Watch has Ended

Today, I quietly retired from roller derby. Other than our BOD and my closest friends, I only told my travel team as I feel I have the most friends there and my happiest times skating were on that team. For those who hadn’t heard or who want more information, I offer this final blog.

I am a swirling storm of emotions. I can easily say that playing derby was an addiction, is still my addiction. It made me feel alive in a way I can’t describe or compare to any other experience and I am sad to let it go.

But, like any addiction, it was also like an abusive relationship. I was being mistreated and I didn’t value my own self worth enough to walk away. It wasn’t until my son needed help with some bullies that I realized all of the advice I was giving to him applied to me as well. My family knew and all but stopped coming to my games and other events. I don’t know if they pulled their support because they couldn’t watch me humiliate myself this way or if they just hoped that I wouldn’t want to go on without them.

Still, for another six months I told myself that the health benefits of playing were worth it…until that excuse fell apart when I had suffered enough injury to limit me to limping through life, a condition I’m not ready for or willing to accept at my age. I couldn’t use stairs anymore or reliably expect to recover from a squat. In addition to the joint injuries, after practice or other strenuous activity, I felt the pain associated with my compartment syndrome seeping into my regular life, too.

And then there was the frustration with myself that I was helpless to do anything about. I had an ankle sprain last year that pulled my ligaments away from my bones and would have required surgery with hardware if I had gotten to the ortho in time. Since I am stubborn and didn’t, it healed incorrectly and never worked the same way. There were things I could do before that I can’t do anymore and it made me mad. Even worse, it made me cry if a well-meaning teammate offered feedback or encouragement. I was trying my best! My uncooperative ankle combined with my compartment syndrome drove the perfectionist overachiever in me completely crazy. I always felt like a failure.

My job has required more of my time this year since I started managing a team in China. I have meetings when I used to have practice and need to be available to them in the evenings, if only by text. Beyond that, my job is moving to Tampa or Costa Rica in 2017 and I will have to go with it if I don’t find something else. This is all pretty stressful and needs a lot of my attention as me and my family decide what’s next.

As if all of this wasn’t enough, what sealed the deal was an injury to my inner ear I sustained while jumping off of waterfalls in the Dominican Republic earlier this month, impacting my balance. It was as though my subconscious didn’t like all the second thoughts it was hearing and decided to take matters into her own hands.

So today, WFTDA insurance renewal deadline looming, I had to say the words out loud – or at least in writing – that I’m done. I am grateful for the friends I made and for the confidence I gained in what my body is capable of. When Eric and I sat in the stands as fans so many years ago, considering getting involved, I just wanted to try playing and he wanted the league to have better logos. Together we did both.