As simple as learning to ride a bicycle?

When I was younger, my father bought me a bicycle with training wheels. I was petrified of getting on it! For a while, it sat unused in the garage. I would look at. See how shiny and colorful it was, watch other kids my age in my neighborhood ride around on there's, but I was scared of getting on it and riding it. My father would come from work and ask if today was the day he could get me on it and teach me to ride, but I kept refusing. I did not want to take the risk.

The risk of falling, the risk of scrapping my self, the risk of a more serious injury. "Why bother?", I would think to myself. I saw what I was missing with my friends riding theirs, but I felt safe staying off of it. However, i was envious. I was envious of my friends whom did ride their bikes. I was envious of how much fun they seemed to have. Even when one occasionally would fall, I saw how they got right back up.

Soon, my father began to lose patience, and he told me to get ready as the upcoming weekend he was going to take me on the bike whether I wanted to or not. When he told me this, I felt so vulnerable. Images of imminent death ran through my head! I was surely going to fail, I had poor balance, I was not very coordinated, this was a risk I was afraid to take.

As the weekend approached, and my father took the bike outside, I was dressed and very nervous. He adjusted the training wheels to make sure they were tight. The bike was positioned on the street with the kick stand down. With one hand he held the bike and with another hand he swooped me up and positioned me on the seat of the bike.

I remember crying a little, I remember him reassuring me. He told me to keep my hands on the bike handles and my feet on the peddles, and he began to push the bicycle forward. I held the bars super tight and I looked straight ahead. He kept holding on pushing me forward. I used my feet to begin to peddle. Soon, the bike was moving forward under my own power while my father continued to hold on.

My tears stopped and were replaced with a smile on my face. My grip relaxed but was still firm, I was figuring out how to hold the handle bars properly. Not going to fast, my father still by my side. I looked to the side, and he was no longer holding on. For a minute I got scared, lost my focus and almost lost my balance. But I quickly regained my composure.

I decided to see if I could turn the bike on my own. I slow started pressing on one side of the handle bar and the bike followed as I turned around. My father was no longer next to me. He was standing in the street watching me ride on my own.

I began rocking the bike to each side and feel the training wheels keep the bike standing straight up. I was comfortable that the bike was not going to tip over. I began to go a bit faster. I continued to go up and down the street.

Every day when I got home from school, I would hop on the bike. A few weeks went by, and soon I was balancing the bike between the training wheels without the training wheel hitting the ground. What I did not realize was how my father would adjust the training wheels at night when I was In bed.

Soon, I asked my dad to take the training wheels off. After he watched a few practice runs, he agreed. And there I was riding the bike without training wheels.

I became a great bike rider. I would race on dirt tracks, jump hills, and fall all time. It became common for me to come home with scratches and bruises on my arms and legs getting myself into trouble. But I loved every chance I got to take on a new risk, a new challenge. As a kid, there was nothing better than riding a bike!

I know this story is a bit of a cliche. But sometimes cliche's are there for a reason. Being vulnerable and taking the risk to ride the bike helped me build my confidence. It took a little bit of a push for me to finally get on the bike, but I did in the end. I became great at riding the bike, and on occasion I would fall and scrap myself. But even then, I continued to build my confidence.

Get on and ride each of your repective bikes, make yourselves vulnerable, take risks; in turn, be yourselves, find personal acceptance, be gay (or bi, queer, tranc, etc) find happiness.

Vulnerability leads to confidence, confidence builds acceptance.

 

The time is long overdue for you to stop giving up, get on the bike, and learn to ride it like a pro!

 

:roflmao: