Finding Joy
in the space between the stuff and the things
Hi! I’m Sarah, or SheFU if you’re in the roller derby world. As a woman in my 40’s, I have only begun to figure out who I really am, and surprise, it’s not that deep after all. Of course, that discovery came to me after lots of time spent in recovery. Like most of us, I am a survivor of many things. I am the daughter of addicts. I have faced childhood abandoment. I am a survivor of suicide, to name a few.
This site, however, is about how I find my joy and my value, how I learned to accept the unacceptable, and even laugh sometimes. I learned that shared experience, strength, and hope (as taught by my Alanon family) can be a life-changing gift—one that we receive, and one that we give back.
Here, I will share the simple, silly things I love that have healed my soul along the way—the moments that fill the gaps between the rough stuff and hard things. I hope you find joy in simple things while learning more about yourself every day. I will say that my recovery story is unique in some ways, and very mundane in others. That means that so many of us have been right where you are. If you find yourself in need of more information about how to recover from a loved one’s addiction struggles, click on the link below. Read, and enjoy!
Meet Mya Sol
I’ve always had a dog companion throughout my life. Sadly, that means that I have lost a few fur friends over the years, too. Over the course of a year, I lost three chihuahuas. Each pup was elderly, and the oldest passed at age 17.
All the issues were health related, and two of the three were not planned pets. Bear was the most beautiful, chocolate long-haired chi, and he was my mother’s before I had to take him. As her struggle with addiction grew worse, she could no longer take care of her beloved pet (I know this sounds terrible, and it was, but I promise it gets better!).
Fast-forward to May of 2022, six months after Chino died (the oldest and last of the three), Mya was dumped off at the local library where I work. She’s a mix of pitbull and rottweiler—a far cry from the little chi’s that I was used to caring for. I didn’t want her, or any other pet, because I was still grieving. However, she approached me as I sat on the back loading dock and placed her head on my shoulder. The rest is history.
Her name is Mya for May, Sol for sun. She’s Mya Sol, and she’s my best friend. My husband wasn’t too happy when he came home to an eighty pound dog. I didn’t realize how important it was for me to have dogs until they were gone, and she came to my husband and I at precisely the right time. It didn’t take long for him to fall in love. For so long, I’ve tried to give this impression that I was a touch chick that was untouched by life’s junk, but the truth is, I am just like everyone else. She, like me, can look intimidating at times, but the truth is that we love our snacks, cuddling, and movies under blankets. She’s a simple joy, and I’m grateful to have her in my life.
Concerts
When we talk about church… we don’t typically insert rock concerts into the conversation. I had a weird life! My bio dad was nowhere to be found, but I was raised by an amazing group of grandparents. I was the fifth living generation until age 13 when my great-great grandmother died. Religion was never really important, but music was a common language we all understood.
I remember when CDs came into the picture and spawned a whole new way to collect music. Hastings, some will remember, was the best store to rummage through the latest albums. Music became an escape for me, and as an only child surrounded by grandparents (some in recovery themselves from alcohol addiction), it became an obsession.
Mom was young when she had me, so her music was everywhere. She’d take me to parties with her friends, and the kids would end up in a man-made fortress, built underneath someone’s pool table. Santana would be blaring out of the speakers, and we could not be happier because there was no bedtime. It wasn’t always bad.
As I got older, I found myself scrounging together tip money from delivering pizza to get that next ticket. It was not easy because I lived in Carlsbad, New Mexico, the center of nothingness! A concert meant a road trip, and a road trip meant freedom.
This never left me as time went on. No matter what I went through, I found church at the concert. Even now, I have three concerts scheduled this year. I call it ‘going to church’ where I will be cleansed of the responsibilities of adulthood, even if it’s only a few hours.
Skating
In 2010 I discovered the Dallas Derby Devils roller derby league. It just happened that I had a co-worker friend whose husband worked for the airline, which meant cheap seats and a 30-minute flight got me right to the derby! Her brother was a volunteer for the league. He’d pick us up and off we’d go. What I saw was a room full of these amazing athletic women who reeked of sweat from their gear and had bad attitudes to match. They were strong, and loud, and owned their space. I wanted to know that kind of confidence.
The skating performance paired with aggression and fish net stockings seemed so trashy, yet, enticing. The skaters had an alter-ego with names to match (like mine, She F.U.). They pretended to be somebody else for a few hours, and I liked that thought. As any slightly crazy, obsessed person does, I came home with a mission.
Of course, the first step was to learn how to skate. At age 28, I picked up my first pair of skates. I was out of shape, and immediately introduced myself to the cement, and I loved it. It’s hard to explain how it feels to do something hard and get right back up and try again. Skating provides that basic function. Fall. Get up. Try again. Eventually I put up a Craig’s List ad, and the team was formed.
There’s so much to say about the following 15 years in counting, but for now, I’ll focus on the best part; skating. It’s really hard to do, especially if you didn’t learn as a child. I’ve managed to refrain from breaking any bones, but I’ve collected lots of bruises and tears over it. There’s skating, and then there’s derby. Nowadays, I just skate. I do it for the release of emotion, the comradery with my sisters, and the slowing of my mind when I’m out on the track. I found joy in the dirt and becoming something I was never supposed to be. Age has no place in skating; you either do, or you don’t. There’s really no sense in it, other than it lightens my heart, and it’s just plain super fun.
Weird Hobbies
As if derby was not weird enough, I have a few other hobbies that I love. One is collecting anything that has to do with aliens. Alien stickers, figurines, Christmas decorations, anything. One does not simply grow up near Roswell, New Mexico and not develop a weird fixation for things unworldly. Seriously, I was raised on a dairy farm in the middle of the New Mexico desert. In the 90’s, there was a television show called Unsolved Mysteries. There is one episode in particular that focused on the Roswell UFO crash and it was extremely scary to me. Naturally, I embraced the weird and went with it. My latest tattoo is a Wonder Woman, Roswell Alien crossover. Why? I say, why not?
I highly suggest finding joyfulness in silly and weird subjects. I have come to understand that Godzilla movies and junk journals provide the ‘secret sauce’ to happiness. We are so full of serious business that it should be just as important to play a little in life. I love to start discussions about how Jesus was an alien, just to invoke a crazy conversation. It is all nonsense, really. We might as well find joy in it. I say, pick up a weird hobby or interest and go with it. You never know, it may turn into a road trip to the New Mexico Desert.
Of course, hobbies do not need to be weird. Plants and knitting are ok, too. It’s just not for me. Find something that works for you, even if it does not always make sense to everyone else.
The Entertainer
That is right. I am a sport announcer, too. As you can see from the photo above, I am in my state of complete bliss. Not because I have a pretty lady on my shoulder, but because I have crossed over into my alter ego, SheFU.
Skating is my release, but playing derby is another thing altogether. Announcing, however, allows me to hold a microphone. This, for me, was a really crazy discovery. As a child, I was not outgoing. I was afraid to step out of line or cause a fuss over anything. Abandonment issues with my father taught me that love wasn’t enough to keep someone around. I thought that if I misbehaved, other people might leave me, too.
Fast forward to our first home game in San Angelo, Texas, we set up the local skating rink and invited a team from Hobbs, New Mexico. The audience had never seen roller derby before, which meant that we had to teach them about our new sport, and convince the people to come back. Our announcer at the time was a no-show, and no one knew the rules like I did. That meant I had to talk to the audience.
I might have thrown up. The game started after the first whistle, and I just reported into the mic what I saw in front of me. This is when I discovered that I could work a crowd. The feeling was unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. People laughed at my jokes and yelled when someone gave a big defensive hit. I would say that I love announcing more than skating, but I love them for distinct reasons. Announcing is where I belong, and skating is where I relieve stress. If I hadn’t picked up the mic when my whole body was raging against it at the time, I would have never known that I was capable of being in the spotlight. This is my joy, and I still announce for Abilene Roller Derby. I go out there, entertain, and go home.
It is amazing, and for a moment, I feel pure joy. I now understand that I can do hard things and do them well. Joy comes in all forms, and for me these moments are the ones I create myself, for myself, and that’s okay.