Good Girl

       I finally relented. After a winter of hinting and winking, I took the leap and bought a skateboard. My brother was ecstatic. A year ago Dj bought a longboard and ever since he's been petitioning for me to get one. Due to my phobia of spending large amounts of money, I waited. And waited.

       And waited.

       Over spring break, my brother took me to Zumiez. If he didn't consider himself too dignified to bounce up and down in company other than my own, he would have been doing jumping-jacks all through the mall. We looked for a while at the longboards, but my gut told me to go classic. That meant a skateboard. I flipped through the racks of decks, trying to decide. It would be pretty awesome, I thought. And after all, I can pull off anything I want. I can be a skater chick if I want to. I hefted a deck--this one was green with leaves all over it. I like leaves. 

       "Karly, that's weed." Said Dj.
     
       I dropped the offending deck like that time I threw my knife and grabbed it by the blade. Maybe "Skater chick" was a bit too loose a term for me.
 
       After much deciding, I did go with a skateboard and had one custom built. It's sitting downstairs as I write, the scuffs and dirt a testament to my efforts to not take a faceplant.

       The problem lies not with the skateboard, but with the stereotypes that go with it. Technically speaking, I'm a "good girl." Homeschooled, Christian (boy do I hate that label, but that's a discussion for another time), who doesn't consider "dating" to be something that should happen unless both parties involved are thinking of marriage. I stay out of trouble (sometimes), I don't loiter, and I try to obey my parents. A good girl shouldn't ride the streets on her (granted, incredibly cool) skateboard.

       I hate labels. I hate stereotypes. I hate that because I've live a certain way I feel like people expect me to be a certain way. I'm not a good girl. Nor am I a bad girl. I can ride my skateboard to church. I can enjoy a day at the gun range and put on my pointeshoes and tutu an hour later.

       That skateboard is a testament to my identity. I do not fit into a mold.