I was thinking, maybe there was a reason I never made it to the badminton club in Oldenburg. No matter how much I tried to go there, there were constant obstacles, like hurting my foot or getting lost on the way... So, I decided that it was fate.
No big deal. I could survive without it.
However, on the last badminton practice at the University I met this girl who was quite a good player. We really hit it off and she invited me to play with her in the club I desperately wanted to go to. I said yes.
Honestly, from the moment I left my dorm, I was waiting for something to go wrong. I thought it would be closed, or the but that was supposed to take me there would break or something, or my phone would die and I wouldn't be able to find that girl, or we could have been eaten by a bear.
None of that happened. I was thinking that the universe finally approved of me playing badminton with the professionals. Little did I know that the universe was thinking "Buahahahahaha (evil laughter), wait till you start playing!!"
For you to understand what I had to go through, I am gonna write a little bit about my teenage years when I was playing badminton in Armenia.
I started playing when I was 9, up till I was 16.
One of the things that was constant during those 7 years I was playing was that I never felt like I was part of the team. Last couple of years of my "professional" career I was playing in the National Team. I was the youngest and honestly, I was never very good. I barely made the cut, sometimes only because the older girls got married, had kids and had to quit. I did participate in tournaments (national and international) and if you google me, you will find a lot of information, including those tournaments where I was the national champion years in a row. But on the international level - I was far from winning any tournaments.
None of the losses would matter that much if I knew that I had a supporting team who would have my back in the end of the practice, who would lift my spirit when I was having a bad practice. I was never told "Good job" or "That was a nice shot" when I was in the team. I couldn't have done everything wrong, no?
Even though badminton was a huge part of my life in my teenage years, I was happy when I quit it. I was finally living a life where the people surrounding me weren't mean to me. Nobody mocked me, called me names, humiliated me in front of everyone. I was finally able to be the person I wanted to be without people not letting me.
What I can't help asking myself after all these years is "What did I do wrong?"
There were two people who were specifically mean to me: a man and a woman. Both of them were much older than I was (10 years each), and you have no idea how horrible they were. I never said or did anything inappropriate. I never misbehaved. Never cheated. I was quiet as a lamb. In fact, I had a weak personality. At least that's what I thought back then. And no badminton could change that, at least with a team that hated me.
When I was playing doubles and mixed doubles with them, they were the worst partners one could ever imagine. They were unhappy with the way I was playing, and they never said what I did wrong in a human way: they always had to raise their voice. Both of them. So, every time there was a tournament and the match began, I would start praying from the first service till the last one for it to be over. Sometimes I put myself in an emotional coma, and of course it affected my game: I was intimidated, horrified... Imagine how I was playing. My feet were trembling, my racket was shaking. I was weak.
------
I made it to the professional badminton club. I changed my outfit, warmed up my muscles and started playing with this girl. It was only us in the courts and another group of teenagers, and I thought to myself "Wow, this is really awesome". But then the hell began.
First of all, I saw this woman walking by who looked exactly like the Armenian woman making my life hell. I swear, I thought it was her. Being an atheist, I crossed myself.
Then two other guys came to the courts. Insanely tall, with all those professional bags and outfits... As they were changing their shoes, they were joking around with each other. And then they started playing. It was the level of my team (Germans are really good at this sport, just so you know). They were really good.
Then we started playing mixed doubles. Me, with a guy twice as tall as me, and the other girl with the guy that really looked like the-mother-fucker-who-ruined-my-life.
My heart started beating faster. I was breathless. I couldn't play. I was so, so, so bad.
In my defence, the lighting was different and the shuttles were heavier. I was hungry. I was thirsty. And a million other reasons, but none of that mattered, because the problem was that I ...
... I don't know what my problem was.
Then I started with "oh-my-God"-s and "I'm-Sorry"-s.
Then I felt really vulnerable. Then I didn't want to play anymore. I was not having fun.
Even though those people had nothing to do with what I was going through, I still didn't feel comfortable playing with them.
I know. I am traumatised. For life.
I wish I never went there. I wish I was eaten by a bear on the way, or at least the buses would magically stop working. I had to get out.
When I came home, I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. It was much more traumatic than getting lost on the way and going outside of Oldenburg on the bike for three hours.
-------
I wish I could go to those two people in Armenia and ask them "Why did you do what you did?" I know there had to be another explanation other than they were assholes.
Unfortunately I don't know where they are now. I know that the man is in the States, desperately trying to find a job and become a third-class immigrant. And the woman, last time I saw her was two years ago in a bar, eating a full plate of crawfish all by herself on a Friday night. I did feel kind of sorry for her, but I still hated her guts. I didn't even say hello.
No big deal. I could survive without it.
However, on the last badminton practice at the University I met this girl who was quite a good player. We really hit it off and she invited me to play with her in the club I desperately wanted to go to. I said yes.
Honestly, from the moment I left my dorm, I was waiting for something to go wrong. I thought it would be closed, or the but that was supposed to take me there would break or something, or my phone would die and I wouldn't be able to find that girl, or we could have been eaten by a bear.
None of that happened. I was thinking that the universe finally approved of me playing badminton with the professionals. Little did I know that the universe was thinking "Buahahahahaha (evil laughter), wait till you start playing!!"
For you to understand what I had to go through, I am gonna write a little bit about my teenage years when I was playing badminton in Armenia.
I started playing when I was 9, up till I was 16.
One of the things that was constant during those 7 years I was playing was that I never felt like I was part of the team. Last couple of years of my "professional" career I was playing in the National Team. I was the youngest and honestly, I was never very good. I barely made the cut, sometimes only because the older girls got married, had kids and had to quit. I did participate in tournaments (national and international) and if you google me, you will find a lot of information, including those tournaments where I was the national champion years in a row. But on the international level - I was far from winning any tournaments.
None of the losses would matter that much if I knew that I had a supporting team who would have my back in the end of the practice, who would lift my spirit when I was having a bad practice. I was never told "Good job" or "That was a nice shot" when I was in the team. I couldn't have done everything wrong, no?
Even though badminton was a huge part of my life in my teenage years, I was happy when I quit it. I was finally living a life where the people surrounding me weren't mean to me. Nobody mocked me, called me names, humiliated me in front of everyone. I was finally able to be the person I wanted to be without people not letting me.
What I can't help asking myself after all these years is "What did I do wrong?"
There were two people who were specifically mean to me: a man and a woman. Both of them were much older than I was (10 years each), and you have no idea how horrible they were. I never said or did anything inappropriate. I never misbehaved. Never cheated. I was quiet as a lamb. In fact, I had a weak personality. At least that's what I thought back then. And no badminton could change that, at least with a team that hated me.
When I was playing doubles and mixed doubles with them, they were the worst partners one could ever imagine. They were unhappy with the way I was playing, and they never said what I did wrong in a human way: they always had to raise their voice. Both of them. So, every time there was a tournament and the match began, I would start praying from the first service till the last one for it to be over. Sometimes I put myself in an emotional coma, and of course it affected my game: I was intimidated, horrified... Imagine how I was playing. My feet were trembling, my racket was shaking. I was weak.
------
I made it to the professional badminton club. I changed my outfit, warmed up my muscles and started playing with this girl. It was only us in the courts and another group of teenagers, and I thought to myself "Wow, this is really awesome". But then the hell began.
First of all, I saw this woman walking by who looked exactly like the Armenian woman making my life hell. I swear, I thought it was her. Being an atheist, I crossed myself.
Then two other guys came to the courts. Insanely tall, with all those professional bags and outfits... As they were changing their shoes, they were joking around with each other. And then they started playing. It was the level of my team (Germans are really good at this sport, just so you know). They were really good.
Then we started playing mixed doubles. Me, with a guy twice as tall as me, and the other girl with the guy that really looked like the-mother-fucker-who-ruined-my-life.
My heart started beating faster. I was breathless. I couldn't play. I was so, so, so bad.
In my defence, the lighting was different and the shuttles were heavier. I was hungry. I was thirsty. And a million other reasons, but none of that mattered, because the problem was that I ...
... I don't know what my problem was.
Then I started with "oh-my-God"-s and "I'm-Sorry"-s.
Then I felt really vulnerable. Then I didn't want to play anymore. I was not having fun.
Even though those people had nothing to do with what I was going through, I still didn't feel comfortable playing with them.
I know. I am traumatised. For life.
I wish I never went there. I wish I was eaten by a bear on the way, or at least the buses would magically stop working. I had to get out.
When I came home, I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. It was much more traumatic than getting lost on the way and going outside of Oldenburg on the bike for three hours.
-------
I wish I could go to those two people in Armenia and ask them "Why did you do what you did?" I know there had to be another explanation other than they were assholes.
Unfortunately I don't know where they are now. I know that the man is in the States, desperately trying to find a job and become a third-class immigrant. And the woman, last time I saw her was two years ago in a bar, eating a full plate of crawfish all by herself on a Friday night. I did feel kind of sorry for her, but I still hated her guts. I didn't even say hello.
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