I am tired of finding a purpose in a place I don’t belong

I+am+tired+of+finding+a+purpose+in+a+place+I+dont+belong

Move with a purpose they say. Know where you want to go, who you want to be when you get there; don’t give up until you arrive, but don’t you dare lose yourself along the way. 

Move with a purpose they say. I am so familiar with this phrase; it’s been drilled into my head ever since I became a competitive cheerleader. We push, punch, and predict every motion; we stomp to each formation with ease, and we exude a confidence that only shines through when you have gone through the motions a hundred times over. 

However, even though I know exactly what line my feet will hit ten counts before it even occurs, it doesn’t mean I am always going to move to that line with the same purpose I originally intended to. 

It’s just not that easy. I have to be actively thinking about where I go next, how I am going to get there, and what other girls on the mat I have to maneuver around in order to make it to my destination. 

I wish to be powerful again. I want to move with a purpose once more, but the mat is too chaotic, and the judges keep disapproving of my out of place motions. 

It’s a game of trickery, really. What appears as a two-minute routine to the rest of the world is really my countless hours of work, tears, and the unexplainable sense of pride because of it.  

But even with this set destination in mind, the difference between simple gesturing to the next motion and moving there with a purpose is the same as doing everyday life with an end goal yet no motivation to get there—or perhaps moving a mountain because you believe in your destination that much. 

My season is almost over, and I am just gesturing with minuscule power. What once was a punch backed with the drive to do better has dwindled to harmlessness towards the world I am attempting to make my own. 

I wish to be powerful again. I want to move with a purpose once more, but the mat is too chaotic, and the judges keep disapproving of my out of place motions. 

I no longer have a destination at the end of the two minutes; I just want it to be over so I can go home, but the girl who once moved with grace, confidence, and strength now remains stationary, frozen from the pressure, and breaking from the judges stare. 

Move with a purpose they said. 

How? I replied.