I am tired, she says. Let me sleep. The words are on the tip of my tongue. Get up. Get dressed. Go to school. But the words die on my lips. Because today? She is a baby, full of innocent joy that brings smiles in her wake. Tomorrow, she will be a baby. But all too soon, those smiles will turn to swords when people realize what she represents. A woman, full of strength. And then the full force of the world will come out to strike her down. Put her in her place. Keep her fixed like a magnificent insect fluttering helplessly on a board.
Later today, I will bring her to a place where she will play with swords. Hug another little girl. Race wildly around and around an enormous room, chasing bigger kids. She will come home. Demonstrate the moves she has learned. Her father will glance at me, eyes wide. That is pretty good footwork, he will say. And all the while, she will not realize that every step is preparing her to fight and kill. To chase down opponents and strike to the heart. Because all too soon, the world will be arrayed against her. And all I can do now? Is let her rest.
I spent years conforming in silence. Doing as I was told. I apologized. Was slow to defend myself. And one day? I picked up a sword. The stance felt awkward. Watching experienced fencers compete left me in a blur of confusion at the speed of their actions. I injured myself in the first few months of practice. But something kept me coming back again and again. And one day? Everything clicked. My body executed an action perfectly all by itself. No thought. No premeditation. Just action and counter action, completed without my realization.
I began learning my strengths. My absolute favorite maneuver? An all out attack. I excel at acceleration, slowly building momentum until by the time my opponent realizes I am coming, it is too late. But each fleche attack? Requires endless patience as I prepare for it. Wait for my opponent to become lulled by the hypnotic blade actions. Save it for a big moment, when I need to psychologically crush my opponent. And then execute, soaring through the air to strike the heart. My husband has been moved to tears by my perfectly timed fleches. I am unusual among female fencers in that I fleche without having the blade – most women need the security of knocking their opponent’s weapon out of the way. Each fleche is an absolute leap of faith and confidence. And when I land a hit, it is the most exhilarating feeling in the world.
Do I fleche perfectly every time? Absolutely not. Often, I am impatient to recapture the magic of the moment. I rush. Launch too many attacks, so my opponent is ready and waiting with the correct counter action. But when I plan carefully? Save up my attacks for the perfect moment? They are absolutely magical. And one day, I hope to share that experience with my children.
Kathy Zucker is an international social media Shorty Award winner, mother of three and a startup founder at companies including the Metro Moms Network®.
