I never learned how to ride a bicycle. Parents always tried to teach me, but I had trouble picking it up, and I tended to be a bit of a quitter growin' up.

I was always a little insecure about not having the skill that so many of the kids around me seemed to have. I still remember times other kids would ask me to bike with them, and me feeling the need to lie to get out of it, "My mom told me no, sorry."

My dad was big into motorcycles. The moment I was big enough to sit on the thing he bought me my own gear and we'd ride together, with me holding on to him for dear life. It was clear he always wanted to share his passion with me, and maybe one day I'd get into riding myself.

But I always thought I could never do it. I couldn't even ride a bicycle. And when he died, I gave up on the idea entirely.

A few weeks ago, I was talking to my boyfriend. He was talking about biking, and how he'd love it if him and I rode bikes together. I told him that I didn't know how, and he became dead-set on teaching me.

When the time came to learn, I of course had no idea what I was doing. I'd eat shit, and the memories of all those insecurities, failures, and disappointment flooded back to me. It was overwhelming. But this time, I had some newfound energy. I would quit from overwhelm, only to get back on and try again a few seconds later. The half of my brain telling me to give up was brawling the half telling me that I MUST do this.

And eventually, I learned.

I learned very well, turns out. I've been riding the thing every day since, I rode it 10 miles yesterday!

It makes me so happy and I absolutely love it ( and I love my boyfriend too :3 )

I am not a failure, I am just someone who is yet to learn.

And perhaps, one day, I'll learn how to ride a motorcycle too.