I’m from the gym with bars, beams and bloody hands,
the morning, afternoon and night practices,
all day, everyday in the gym.

From the family who only cares about sports,
always worrying if I’ll be enough.
But at all my tournaments, seeing my family in the stands.

I’m from an older brother winning state title after state title,
thinking to myself, I’m not living up to the “Rothwell” name.
With the little sister looking up to me with every twist, turn and tumble I take.

From being on the podium six years at state,
one year at nationals,
every time on the top.

I’m from being the youngest girl in the highest level,
the coaches telling me all the time,
“I’m going far places with this sport.”

From the muscular toes and nose,
and all my muscles in between.
With them aching all night from the hard workout that day.

I’m from the one day I could not continue,
the one day that ruined it all,
the one day I wish didn’t happened.

From the fall that I will never forget,
the crack that was heard across the gym,
the tears that rolled down my face.

I’m from the days in the hospital after the fall,
replaying the moment that ruined it all,
wishing the doctors will come in and say “that was a close call.”

From the regret filling my mind,
telling myself if I just would’ve skipped that practice,
maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

I’m no longer from the gym with bars, beams and bloody hands,
no more morning, afternoon and night practices,
all day, everyday, not in the gym.