A Letter to My Role Model

Hello AJ (god this sounds so weird),

I don’t know if you’ll read this or not, but I wanted to write to you anyway (boldness maybe) in order to thank you for being an inspiration for me, for always standing up for yourself and most of all for making me feel confident despite my mental illness.

Ever since I can remember, I used to watch wrestling with my brothers, I found that cool to use your body as a weapon, whether it was to lift someone or jump on another person, I found this genuinely artistic. The problem was the lack of “true” female’s matches. During the time I watched pro-wrestling, women were called “Divas” and were mostly used for their looks and not their in-ring abilities. It was so upsetting to me that women couldn’t fight just like the male “Superstars,” being considered as a guy myself (essentially because I refused to wear dresses, apply some makeup and was totally fine wearing sneakers); I wanted to see women give everything in the ring and even wrestle against boys, before I even watched wrestling that was my idea of female pro-wrestling, instead I watched a disappointing segment of girls randomly dancing. So I skipped every segment involving the Divas every time I was watching WWE, just so I wouldn’t have to feel bad for them.

That was before I saw you on NXT. You appeared on my screen, and deep inside I knew you would become my all time favorite wrestler. You were different but so true to yourself, you were the only one wearing sneakers, and just for that I could relate to you. I followed every of your steps, supporting every segments you would be involved in, and slowly watched women’s matches again.

You made me fall in love with women’s wrestling, and somehow taught me to respect all athletes (female and male) during their matches and segments.

During your career, I never thought I could have this unconditional love for a woman that didn’t even know my existence, the more I was watching you the more I was certified that I found my role model and favorite wrestler. You were representing so many women that could easily connect to you. Thanks to you we could take women’s wrestling seriously and thanks to you I learned that being the weird girl could be an asset. People don’t know how influential they can be or how little things can affect us, wearing Chuck Taylors on international television helped me stop feeling alone for not fitting in and for not wearing “girls’ shoes.” I could be the version of myself that I decided and ignore every comments telling me otherwise.

I related to you during your wrestling career, even more after you retired. I wanted you to be the happiest woman alive (only because I admired you so much, don’t make this weird), I wanted to be a supportive fan in every projects you were planning. I learned about your love and fight for pets in shelters, and I wanted to help animals just like you, so I started volunteering in my local shelter. As you said in an interview “everyone should find a way to help”. I’m helping the best I can, and one day I will adopt a pet (or ten).

The subject that will really create a deeper (invisible) relation between you and me is mental illness. When you wrote on your website that you were diagnosed with bipolar disorder it made me smile and made me consider you as en even tougher woman. Since I was 11 or 12 years old I suffered from depression. I’ve had a big depression, I attempted suicide, I auto mutilated myself, I was either eating junk foods to compensate the sadness and loneliness I was feeling, or I just forced myself to vomit, I skipped lunch, I was bullied... and more during six or seven years. I never told anyone about it, because I feared that my friends wouldn’t understand me or worse they wouldn’t see me as the same person anymore. I buried everything deep and pretended I was okay. When I noticed that I was sad all the time for no apparent reason, I knew something with me was wrong. I did some research and found out that I was depressed. Years after I wanted to know more about mental illness and I found out that depression wasn’t the only mental trouble I had…

When you openly said you were bipolar and it has now became your strength, I wanted to be proud of my mental illness, except that I couldn’t. Depression has taken over my body and brain for years, I felt like the darkness wasn’t just a part of me, it was ALL OF ME.

Then I read your book, most of the time with a cup of green tea (I’m not a coffee person DON’T JUDGE ME). I also saw your interviews wearing soft pajamas, and it would motivate me to find my inner strength to talk to my mother about it, you proved that it was okay to be a mess sometimes. I’m really messed up but I need help and I can recognize that it’s time to finally get it. You wrote in your book, “You are worth saving. And you are not alone.” It made me feel like, for once in my life, I wanted to be saved. So I talked to my mother about the fact that I’m depressed. It was the hardest thing on earth. It was painful to bare my soul in front of the person who thought know me the most but in fact didn’t have any idea what her daughter was enduring for years.

It’s the biggest step of the process: talk to someone about it. My mom told me that I would get some help and talk to experienced people that could save what left of my soul there is to save.

I can’t thank you enough for helping me tell my mother about my depression, I felt lonely, weak and empty for years. I needed someone to help me, no one ever could. Until you taught me that mental illness was a power, a strength, so I became my own help. I will do anything to feel better, accept the help I need.

In my family mental illness is considered as a weakness, it held me back for years to tell them that I wasn’t doing okay. I now promised myself to talk about it, get control over it and make myself proud for winning the fight against Bipolar Disorder.

I am proud to be a weirdo, I am proud to wear sneakers, I am proud to be different, I am proud to be a fighter, I am proud to be my own superhero.

You changed the way I was perceiving many things, you taught me to be the best version of my myself, you taught me that no matter how messed up I am, I can always get help, you taught me that I was my own savior and superhero. You came into my life and made me believe in myself and made me feel unbreakable. You were the sunshine in my darkness.

Even if you won’t read this letter because you must be busy with your book tour, I am happy that I wrote this, I want you to know that your story has inspired and helped me.

Thank you, simply for being yourself (and loving donuts).