I was always the tough one.
The middle child. The athlete. The tom-boy. The "anything you can do I can do better" one. Even when I felt inadequate, or weak, or vulnerable I never let it show. How could I? I had a reputation to live up to.
I was a Greenlee.
The daughter of the fire chief, the speed skating coach, the Sunday school teacher, the Girl Scout leader. The sister of a valedictorian, a speed skating champion, a partier, a star baseball player, a paramedic, a dancer.
I had to keep up. I had to do it all.
And I had to do it better.
They were tough. But I was tougher. It never felt like competition... it was just all I knew.
So I did everything.
I fought fires, I won speed skating nationals, I memorized Bible verses, I hiked, I got A's, I excelled in sports, I danced.
But I didn't stop there, I couldn't stop there.
I didn't just dance, I sang and acted. I didn't just excel in sports, I picked up rugby and sky diving. I didn't just party, I threw the parties. My family loves to travel... so I became the mover.
I not only did everything... I did everything better.
Until my life came to a sudden, unexplainable, un-"toppable" hault.
And the only question that remains after all these years is "why me?" The supposedly genetic disorder affected no one else in my family. Just me. The tough one. The middle child. The athlete. The tom boy. The "anything you can do I can do better" one.
The un-"toppable" open heart surgery survivor.
I guess I got what I always wanted.
