Unlike many people, I had to learn to ride a bike on my own. My dad left my Mom and I stranded in a tiny one bedroom apartment in north Jersey and my Mom struggled to raise me by herself. I didn't have many friends, and was too small at the time to go off on my own and make new ones. Therefore, I was left to my own devices.
I got my first bike the Christmas right after Dad left. Although it was a miserable time for me, seeing that blue shiny new best friend made my heart flutter with delight. Santa Clause had surprised me with the "bestest present ever!" and I was eager to try my hand at riding, to prove to my Mom that I could do it. Her approval of such things was a top priority to me and I desperately desired her attention, love, nurturing and encouragement. Riding this new steel wonder, I believed, would really show her how much I deserved her devotion.
It didn't snow much that year, so I was able to take my new bike outside as soon as I was properly dressed. I did groan in upset that my mother had wanted me to wear that stuffy blue over-sized snow suit complete with boots and a scarf. I didn't believe I would be able to prove my skill at maneuvering my wonder wheels with all that unecessary and debilitating gear. My Mom eventually agreed, and off I went, out the door and into the street.
However, I had not given a lot of serious thought about the training wheels which accompanied my "real" wheels. As I ascended my throne (my big ugly-beautiful banana seat), I realized how awkward it felt to try and ride this bike as it rocked back and forth in an effort to balance my imbalance. I wasn't showing my Mom my skill-I was cheating, or so it seemed, and I disappointedly rode my bike back to the front steps of the house and went inside. My Mom, who had been watching me from the window, wanted to know why I was so upset.
"I can't ride my bike with those training wheels Mom!" I cried. "Please take them off, I know I can ride on my own!"
"Now honey," My Mom said, in that tone she always used when trying to avoid hurting my feelings over a decision that was obviously not going to be in my favor.
"You know you're not ready for that just yet."
Geez, I thought, I'm seven years old already and getting older by the minute! How much longer does she want me to wait? I stared out the window at my blue princess and wondered at the possiblity of taking off those training wheels when she wasn't looking. I decided I would wait until she returned to work and I would ask her to bring my bike over to my babysitters house, where I would commence trying to ride it behind her back.
Now, we all know how these things usually turn out. You try to sneak something behind your parents' back and it rarely works out in your favor. Something always goes terribly wrong and the story ends with a lesson learned from the school of hard knocks. Well, not this time. I was about to prove myself worthy of my mothers respect as an experienced rider-and nothing was going to stop me.
Since I was a girl at the ripe old age of seven, and because there were no men in my life to help me, I didn't know much about using tools. However, I did know enough to manipulate people into showing me how, or better yet-doing it for me. When my Mom dropped me off at the babysitters house early the next morning, I stole into the garage to see about them tools to get my "baby" wheels off that so-grown-up bike. Upon finding me meddling in vain for the right tool, Diane asked me if I needed any help. For once, Diane agreed that my day in the sun (literally) had finally arrived; she would help me take the wheels off my bike. And for once (or maybe twice) I failed to mention that my Mom had already told me I couldn't. I figured, when she saw me riding that bike without my training wheels, she would be so proud of me (I could see her applauding in my mind), that she would forget all about her decision or that Diane had helped. If Diane were to get in trouble for this, I thought, well, I would fess up and tell the truth.
Within fifteen minutes or so the wheels were off. I was ecstatic. Diane watched me fumble with my now awkwardly heavy bike and asked me if she could trust me in the driveway without "going into the street and getting hit." Of course I said yes. This was my big moment and I was especially happy that she was going to leave me on my own without having to endure the humiliation of falling down on my new bike-which I was so sure would happen sooner or later. She went inside and closed the door. I proceeded to get on my bike.
I kept my feet on the ground and pushed it around in circles for a while, trying desperately to balance. After about ten minutes I noticed I was getting better, so I dared to lift my feet. Now, anyone whose ever learned to ride a bike knows how hard it is for those first couple of rounds; but my dilemma was that since there was little room for a real practice run in the driveway, I would have to learn how to ride by riding in circles. I looked out into the street and then back at the window several times, wondering if I should chance what I knew I should not. Diane would be livid if she found out-and she would punish me for the rest of the day.
You'll never guess what I did...
I actually chose to stay in the driveway.
I practiced hard that day. For hours I kept riding in circles, picking up one foot and then the other-each time getting faster and better at maintaining my balance. I'll never forget the moment I was free. I lifted my feet, took to the wind (which was blowing against my face) and began riding as fast as I could in circles around that blacktop driveway. And I never fell once...
I did scream though, scaring the hell out of Diane, who came rushing through the door thinking the worst had happened-that I had fallen or worse, had gotten hit by a car. However, upon seeing me riding in circles, she calmed and smiled. I waved (look at me, I'm riding one-handed!) and she waved back, apparently approving of my success. From start to finish, it took me about two hours to learn to ride that bike-which wasn't bad, I thought (although it felt like all day). My Mom would not be home for several hours yet, and it was incredibly difficult waiting for her to pull up out front, so I could show her my new skills. She would have to see me as she pulled up; showing her after she exited the car just wouldn't do. And I was hoping she wouldn't be late.
Around the time she was due home (I had been watching the clock for hours), I eagerly ran to the driveway to jump on my bike. Minutes felt like years, as I performed my figure eights (I had worked up to that) and my circles. The time finally arrived, and my mother pulled up in her car.
"Oh my God, you did it!" my Mom exclaimed as she got out of the car. She was smiling so big I thought her face would burst. I thought mine would as well...
"Mom, see? I told you I could do it, I told you!" I chimed as I ever-so-carefully completed my maneuvers-further impressing her for sure. However, my success was short lived, as it was time to go and I could tell my Mom was tired from working all day in that stuffy office. We put my bike in the trunk and headed home. On the drive home, I explained to my Mom how important it was for me to have her approval. Of course, I said this in little girl speak. My mother replied
"Honey, I'm always proud of you. And I just knew you could do it. I guess I've just been rather over-protective since your father left. I was afraid you would get hurt. You're all I've got left, and you're too young to understand what it's like for a parent to worry all day about her only child." I smiled at her then, and leant over to give her a kiss on the cheek. I did understand-I worried about my Mom being my only parent now.
"Don't worry, Mom. We'll be ok."
As I saw the tears well up in my mothers eyes (that she often tried to hide), I knew then, that I would have to learn to be more careful when disobeying my mother. Although I had succeeded in learning to ride a bike without training wheels, I also learned that other decisions may not turn out in my favor-costing my life and the goal of the team.
Lesson learned? I learned that I was sometimes right, and when I really set my sites on something, anything was possible. I also learned that sometimes the possibility would come with a price-a price my mother and I could not afford. Life is a dangerous game, and we were left to chance-alone. We would need to care for each other now; and as I envisioned the horror of a car sending my body 40 feet in the air like a ragdoll, crushing my vertebrae, I prmoised silently to myself that I would try my hardest to never frighten, disappoint or disobey her again. And with precaution, hopefully, we would be just fine. My Mom helped me to understand that I didn't necessarily need to worry that Dad was no longer around-we would make it on our own-and we would be fine together. We were a team.
Unfortunately, I also learned that occasionally, I could get away with disobeying my mother with other less dangerous decisions, and well, those are stories for another time...