Wednesday was October 1st. I followed Ryan into the box at 5:15am, as usual. When Ryan started erasing to make space for the day's WOD I realized the PR board needed updating to the new month. I double-checked to make sure it was okay, then grabbed a handful of dry-erase markers and got busy putting "October" in the place of "September". Satisfied, I joined wednesday's WOD.

Friday morning when I walked in the first thing I noticed was that someone had erased my October and scrawled a hasty October in its place. Feelings of rejection smacked me in the face. I felt judged. Had someone not liked my art? Was it too silly for the "hardcore" mentality of Crossfit? Should I not have done it in the first place? Immediately my voices started yelling at me. No one here likes you! You shouldn't be here! You're fooling yourself that this is where you belong!  I forced myself to setup for the WOD, but my eyes kept straying to the PR board.

Our WOD was a strength WOD, decreasing sets of power cleans and ring rows, and then 3 rounds of 250 meter rows for time. Bothered by my negative voices, I struggled through my first 10 power cleans and dropped the bar. I put my fists on my hips and panted, looking around the room. No one was looking at me. No one was noticing me. No one cares if you're here, my inner voice sneered. I slipped out the door and started to walk to the fence.

Tiffany's coaching came to mind and I consciously tried to direct my thinking. Conveniently last week's topic was Confidence, and the coaching sheet sprang to mind.

You're awesome! You're here and you're doing this!
You've done power cleans before, you're great! 
You're strong and you're powerful, and you're getting it done!

I breathed and walked and flooded my brain with positive thoughts. Halfway to the fence I turned and came back to the box, determined to finish my SWOD. I tore through the power cleans, focused very sharply on the ring rows, and finished all three rounds of the row before anyone else had even started.

I caught my breath by the board, glaring. My hurt had a tinge of anger in it, and the row had made it visible.

"What's up?" Ryan asked. 

Like a damn bursting I babbled. "I drew the October on wednesday and you said it was okay and then someone erased it and I don't know if they didn't like it but I thought it was cool and I know it's not hardcore but it's just a board and I thought it was okay and I was just trying to contribute but now I don't even know if I belong here and I thought I was okay here but I guess not does everyone hate me?" I took a breath. 

"Whoa," Ryan said. "I liked it, I thought it was cool. I like having you here. You're definitely a part of the box. No one knew you drew it. It wasn't about you. It was probably one of the kids."

I blinked. Obviously. I looked at the plain October. It's not like I signed it. No one knew it was me. No one has a vendetta against my attempts to contribute. All my hurt went out of me, and I realized that I had taken something that wasn't personal as a judgment and a rejection of my entire being. Being naturally self-effacing and tender of spirit, I wondered how many times in the past I'd done the same thing and how many of the hurts I had clung to over the years actually had nothing to do with me at all. I looked at Ryan.

"Is it okay if I re-draw it?" When Ryan nodded I grabbed my clutch of pens and went to the board again. The goal is personal growth. Sometimes, it comes in the form you least expect.