Walking off the freezing bus and into that overheated gym,

I felt the whole place buzzing, schools I’d never even heard of

crowded around mats that covered every inch of the floor.

It was loud, but it was the kind of loud that made you wake up fast. 

Weigh-ins felt like the longest hour of my life.

When the scale blinked 0.4 over, my heart sank straight to the mat.

All I could think about was the water I drank on the ride.

Now I had to wrestle up, whether I liked it or not.

Warming up helped for a minute my headphones in, moves on repeat

but every whistle in the gym stabbed at the nerves in my stomach.

I paced around pretending I wasn’t terrified,

even though I definitely was.

When they called my name, I froze like I didn’t hear it.

Stepping onto the mat made my ears ring and my legs feel useless.

The kid across from me looked bigger, calmer, ready.

The whistle blew, and suddenly nothing existed except us.

I hit the mat hard more times than I want to admit,

but somehow I found one opening and threw everything into it.

I didn’t even hear the cheering until after I scored.

By the time the match ended, I could barely stand.

And then I felt my hand being raised.

For a second I didn’t believe it,

but everyone yelling my name proved it was real

I’d actually won my first match, and it felt unreal.