Post by Sara Garcia on Jan 16, 2017 4:51:22 GMT
The scene comes to an you see me, Sara Garcia, relaxing the night away on the rooftop of my condo in lovely San Diego, California. Off in the distance, you can hear the waves crashing on the beach, and below you can hear the sounds of car horns, and perhaps even some of the conversation of the passers by. Me? I’m laying on a hammock tied from one end of my balcony to the other, supported by a couple of poles that probably held up a canopy of some sort at one time. I have my hands behind my head, and my eyes gazing up at the stars above on this clear but cool evening as I lounge about in a simple pair of sweatpants and a black tank top with a long sleeve crocheted throw over keeping me quite comfortable.
As I continue gazing up at the stars, you see my head shake from side to side.
Do you ever wonder what things would be like if this or that hadn’t happened? Or maybe if something else had happened instead?
I turn to the camera, bringing my hands together beneath my head and curling my legs upward, shaping my body into a cute little ball.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally, and completely filled with joy over my sister becoming the Diamonds Champion. She busts her ass to get better in that ring each and every single day, and for her dreams, for her aspirations to come true just sends a warm, loving feeling up my spine. She never wavered from this goal of hers, and in a way, I envy her for that.
I take a deep breath, organizing my thoughts before speaking them out loud.
All along, she had a partner who wanted this for her almost as badly as she wanted it for herself. Brian has been behind her one hundred percent, and with hindsight being 20/20 and all, I could only wish for that. Instead, I chose the path that had always been preached upon me. Being the older twin, by a whole ten minutes or so, somehow meant that I was the one who was supposed to be more “reasonable”. So naturally, when it came to my career goals, or supporting my husband, after years of having it drilled in my head, I decided to support my husband...boy, what a mistake.
I push myself upward, swinging my legs over the side of the hammock to stabilize myself.
I know that’s my fault. It was my choice to stand by my husband, it was my choice to put him before me. So far, here in IWF, it seems as if I’m doing the same with my sister. Other’s talk about me like the forgotten twin, the one that doesn’t matter, and I hate to break the news to each and every single one of you...you couldn’t be farther from the truth.
Have I taken the fall for my sister?
Yes.
Have I been the one who goes out as her first line of defense?
Yes.
Have I been the obstacle most have overcome in their quest to challenge her for either the Shieldmaiden while she was making history, or her Diamonds Title now?
You guessed it...yes.
I hold my index finger in the air.
But…
All of those losses, those butt kickings I took, each and every one was a lesson in this bumpy road of life called professional wrestling. Each and every time I jumped to the front of the line to protect my sister, it wasn’t for her, and it wasn’t merely to put a hoop in front of her challenger.
I wanted it.
I was eager to learn in a sped up fashion what took her months to learn before anyone had even heard of the Garcia Twins on IWF Television. They say in sports, no matter it be basketball, football, or professional wrestling, that there’s “shape” and then there’s “game shape”, and while I was in shape, there’s no simulating the full speed of a match.
I fold my arms in my lap and lean over them, looking out to the side, toward the ocean, the breeze blowing through my hair, sending it cascading behind me.
Each shot, every bruise, all the cuts, and the buckets of sweat poured into this craft of mine haven’t been for nothing...quite the opposite. With each tear, every drop of sweat, I used my sister’s ascent to inspire myself, and now, here we are, in a whole other situation, which to the naked eye, might just look like another chance for me to be the punching dummy for Fiona, her obstacle to jump over, but I’m so much more than that, and the little pixy better recognize that.
I put my finger in my chest.
No longer is this “Get through Sara to get to Paige.” no, no, no. This isn’t Sara Garcia the obstacle to the bigger and better. The woman you see before you, the one who Fiona McFly will go toe to toe with in the ring is Sara Garcia...THE ROADBLOCK!
I point out to the side.
For far too long, I’ve put the well-being of others before myself. For too long, I’ve put my own aspirations on the back burner to help someone else achieve their dream. Things are different now, and the rest of the IWF is in quite a bit of trouble, for you see the Garcia brand is about to become two fold.
I love my sister, and I will continue to support her and stand by her side as a good big sister would, but at the same time, from this point forward, I am also looking out for myself in the process.
No longer will I be the forgotten sister. No longer will I be the “other” Garcia. Fiona, prepare yourself to step in that ring with the only person in this match who actually matters, because when it’s all said and done...you’ll be the “other” girl...not me.
So what does all of this mean for you Fiona?
The scene comes to and I’m shown back on my balcony, leaning comfortably against the railing, again looking out toward the ocean with the wind flowing through my hair.
How is it that this match is different from any of the other times we’ve faced off in the past? Let me guess…
I turn to the camera.
You’re great new moves will propel you to victory! You’ll use this new knowledge and your new superpowers, and you’ll vanquish one half of the evil Garcia Empire.
I roll my eyes.
Please, if it were that simple, my sister and I would have never become the recognizable names that we are. If being a Diamond in the IWF was so easy, we’d just be two nobodies, a lot like yourself, wading through the waters. That might be who you are, wallowing away in the pits of mediocrity, but that IS NOT what my sister and I are about, and it sure as hell isn’t what I’M about.
I point into the camera.
So now, what I have to ask is what you’ll do when you’re stopped in your tracks? What are you going to do when I make you pay for ruining a six hundred dollar dress last week with your little prank? You’re coming in with a slight bit of momentum, but when it comes to our match, I’m going to snuff out any and all hope you may have.
I shrug my shoulders.
Are you going to claim it a fluke? How about call me a cheater? Maybe you’ll tell me that I’m hiding behind my sister, or perhaps, after I beat you, that she’s hiding behind me? That is your shtick isn’t it little girl? You try your best to tear someone down, telling them that their cowards when the real coward in all of this truly is the one across the ring from me at Sacrifice...I’ll spell it out for you sweetie...that’s Y-O-U!
You have all types of excuses for your ineptitude inside those ropes. You have a reason for being one of the biggest failures on the roster. You’ve had opportunity after opportunity to make a name for yourself, and over and over again you’ve failed to do anything worthwhile.
I point again.
Take your biggest achievement to date Fiona. Last year, you won the Iron Maiden, but if you went out on the streets before an event and asked the fans who won, I guarantee you that not a single person would recall, and if they did...they’d be wearing a Fiona McFly shirt. No, the most memorable thing to happen in that Iron Maiden match is the fact my sister won the Shieldmaiden and made it into the title it is today.
I point downward.
Fiona, this coming Sacrifice, the two of us are walking into that ring with something to prove. You need to prove that you’re a legitimate contender for my sister’s championship. You need to show the world that you didn’t get handed your spot just because you pissed her off by ruining our dresses with a bucket of slime. Me? I have to prove that I’m not the “other” or “forgotten” Garcia. I need to show the world what it is I know...that I’m every bit as capable as my sister is.
Unfortunately, for you, you’re the one to be made the example of.
Aren’t you supposed to have the luck of the Irish?
I giggle a bit before waving as the scene fades.
As I continue gazing up at the stars, you see my head shake from side to side.
Do you ever wonder what things would be like if this or that hadn’t happened? Or maybe if something else had happened instead?
I turn to the camera, bringing my hands together beneath my head and curling my legs upward, shaping my body into a cute little ball.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally, and completely filled with joy over my sister becoming the Diamonds Champion. She busts her ass to get better in that ring each and every single day, and for her dreams, for her aspirations to come true just sends a warm, loving feeling up my spine. She never wavered from this goal of hers, and in a way, I envy her for that.
I take a deep breath, organizing my thoughts before speaking them out loud.
All along, she had a partner who wanted this for her almost as badly as she wanted it for herself. Brian has been behind her one hundred percent, and with hindsight being 20/20 and all, I could only wish for that. Instead, I chose the path that had always been preached upon me. Being the older twin, by a whole ten minutes or so, somehow meant that I was the one who was supposed to be more “reasonable”. So naturally, when it came to my career goals, or supporting my husband, after years of having it drilled in my head, I decided to support my husband...boy, what a mistake.
I push myself upward, swinging my legs over the side of the hammock to stabilize myself.
I know that’s my fault. It was my choice to stand by my husband, it was my choice to put him before me. So far, here in IWF, it seems as if I’m doing the same with my sister. Other’s talk about me like the forgotten twin, the one that doesn’t matter, and I hate to break the news to each and every single one of you...you couldn’t be farther from the truth.
Have I taken the fall for my sister?
Yes.
Have I been the one who goes out as her first line of defense?
Yes.
Have I been the obstacle most have overcome in their quest to challenge her for either the Shieldmaiden while she was making history, or her Diamonds Title now?
You guessed it...yes.
I hold my index finger in the air.
But…
All of those losses, those butt kickings I took, each and every one was a lesson in this bumpy road of life called professional wrestling. Each and every time I jumped to the front of the line to protect my sister, it wasn’t for her, and it wasn’t merely to put a hoop in front of her challenger.
I wanted it.
I was eager to learn in a sped up fashion what took her months to learn before anyone had even heard of the Garcia Twins on IWF Television. They say in sports, no matter it be basketball, football, or professional wrestling, that there’s “shape” and then there’s “game shape”, and while I was in shape, there’s no simulating the full speed of a match.
I fold my arms in my lap and lean over them, looking out to the side, toward the ocean, the breeze blowing through my hair, sending it cascading behind me.
Each shot, every bruise, all the cuts, and the buckets of sweat poured into this craft of mine haven’t been for nothing...quite the opposite. With each tear, every drop of sweat, I used my sister’s ascent to inspire myself, and now, here we are, in a whole other situation, which to the naked eye, might just look like another chance for me to be the punching dummy for Fiona, her obstacle to jump over, but I’m so much more than that, and the little pixy better recognize that.
I put my finger in my chest.
No longer is this “Get through Sara to get to Paige.” no, no, no. This isn’t Sara Garcia the obstacle to the bigger and better. The woman you see before you, the one who Fiona McFly will go toe to toe with in the ring is Sara Garcia...THE ROADBLOCK!
I point out to the side.
For far too long, I’ve put the well-being of others before myself. For too long, I’ve put my own aspirations on the back burner to help someone else achieve their dream. Things are different now, and the rest of the IWF is in quite a bit of trouble, for you see the Garcia brand is about to become two fold.
I love my sister, and I will continue to support her and stand by her side as a good big sister would, but at the same time, from this point forward, I am also looking out for myself in the process.
No longer will I be the forgotten sister. No longer will I be the “other” Garcia. Fiona, prepare yourself to step in that ring with the only person in this match who actually matters, because when it’s all said and done...you’ll be the “other” girl...not me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“The Responsible One”
Flashback: June 6, 2006
We had just graduated High School. Both Paige and I had graduated with honors, and were ready to go on in the next phases of our life. I knew coming out of college that we had both wanted to do wrestling right off rip, but I thought it better to have something to fall back on first. Paige scoffed at the idea, but my mother approved of it, and she enforced it upon Paige...to a degree.
Mrs. Garcia: Now Paige, sweetie, I know you want to do the wrestling, but your sister is right. What happens if things don’t go right? What if God forbid you or your sister gets hurt to the point where you can’t go on and have to do something else.
Paige Garcia: Mom, that’s not going to happen.
Sara Garcia: But you don’t know that sis.
She scoffed again, but she knew I was right.
I mean, even when we went to tour the wrestling facility, the trainers all said that we should get a background in something else before pursuing this. The risk of injury was high, especially in something so physically demanding, and a lot of them were even saying how if they had done it all over again, they would have gone to school first if possible. So why was she bitching so much?
Paige Garcia: I want to go to wrestling school, and I don’t want my career to be cut short because of four years of college. That’s four years I could be training, and possibly like one or two after that I could be in that ring on the television!
My mother motioned to me.
Mrs. Garcia: Why can’t you be more level headed about this like your sister? She knows that you need proper schooling before diving off a cliff, head on into wrestling.
Paige Garcia: Oh sure...she’s just so freakin perfect!
Sara Garcia: Hey, don’t hold it against me that I want to have something to fall back on.
Paige Garcia: That’s just it...YOU want to...I don’t. Simple as that.
Sara Garcia: It’s the smart thing to do, for all of the reasons mom mentioned, not to mention all of those people back at the school. Don’t be stupid.
Oh crap, that wasn’t the thing to say. There’s one thing about my sister, once she gets an idea in her head, it’s nearly impossible to break her from the grasp of said idea until she realizes it isn’t the right way to go.
As far as the “perfect” thing, it absolutely bugged the crap out of her when mom would compare us, just as it would me. I’m not my sister, and she’s not me...not even close.
Paige Garcia: Listen, I’m doing this. I’m going to be a professional wrestler, and if I have to do that on my own, whatever.
She stomped off, and my mom took a few steps forward to try and bring her back.
Mrs. Garcia: Paige! PAIGE!
She stood there with her hands on her hips. She was clearly at odds with the thoughts in her head. She wanted to be there for my sister, but at the same time, she didn’t want either of us setting ourselves up for failure. I understood that...my sister...not so much. She turned to me and walked over, placing her hands on my shoulders.
Mrs. Garcia: Well, at least I have one sensible daughter. You see what I mean though right? I just don’t want her, or you for that matter getting hurt, then being screwed for the rest of your lives with nothing to go for.
I nodded. I was sick of this conversation. My mother and I talked about wrestling school, just as her and Paige had. I was more receptive, and clearly, my sister was not; but it was almost as if she was trying to reaffirm her decision through me.
Sara Garcia: Yes mom. I understand completely where you’re coming from. You’re not wrong here, and maybe she’ll understand that eventually.
My mother spun from me. She was clearly conflicted and finally just threw her hands in the air.
Mrs. Garcia: Maybe she’s right? Maybe this is holding her back and she should be able to just do what she wants.
Sara Garcia: WHAT!?
I felt a rage building up inside of me. After all of this time, praising me as little Miss Responsible, and telling me that I’m doing the right thing, and NOW she’s having second thoughts just to make Paige feel better? NOW she says “Maybe?”. I was shocked with anger as she turned around. My eyes were wide, and if they could glow red, I bet you they would have.
Sara Garcia: Mom, what are you talking about!? Just because she’s throwing a hissy fit, doesn’t mean you give in. What happened to not wanting us to get hurt? What happened to doing the “smart” thing rather than rushing into something where things could go horribly wrong?
She was frantic to calm down my anger and reassure herself.
Mrs. Garcia: I believe in every single bit of that Sara. That’s why I’m hoping and praying you stay the course. It’s why I’m hoping your sister will come through and see things in the same light. But…
I had my hands on my hips and was rolling my eyes. I couldn’t understand her sudden about face.
Sara Garcia: But what mom!? Why the sudden switch? Just because she wants it?
I pointed in Paige’s direction. I then pointed into my chest with the other hand.
Sara Garcia: What about me mom? What if it was me who changed my mind and wanted to do the wrestling right off the bat? Would you be so willing to cave? Would you be so willing to go along with what I wanted?
Mrs. Garcia: I’m not caving sweet…
Sara Garcia: YES YOU ARE! I hear it in your voice. I see it in your mannerisms. It’s the same freaking thing every time she wants something that you don’t want to give her. Would you do the same for me is all I’m asking.
She looked at me and sighed.
Mrs. Garcia: Sara...that’s not fair…
I was getting more and more annoyed with every single word that was coming out of her mouth.
Mrs. Garcia: For one, you wouldn’t lash out like this. You know better. You know that what I’m asking for is the right thing to do.
Sara Garcia: Of course! Little Miss Perfect I am.
I turn and start stomping away as she calls my name as well.
Mrs. Garcia: SARA!
I continue to walk off, waving my hand in the air.
Sara Garcia: WHATEVER MOM! LET HER DO WHAT SHE WANTS!
I continue to storm off to the car, leaving my mother in the field looking at me, then back at my sister, and then back at me before burying her face in her hands, not knowing what to do.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“The Responsible One”
Flashback: June 6, 2006
We had just graduated High School. Both Paige and I had graduated with honors, and were ready to go on in the next phases of our life. I knew coming out of college that we had both wanted to do wrestling right off rip, but I thought it better to have something to fall back on first. Paige scoffed at the idea, but my mother approved of it, and she enforced it upon Paige...to a degree.
Mrs. Garcia: Now Paige, sweetie, I know you want to do the wrestling, but your sister is right. What happens if things don’t go right? What if God forbid you or your sister gets hurt to the point where you can’t go on and have to do something else.
Paige Garcia: Mom, that’s not going to happen.
Sara Garcia: But you don’t know that sis.
She scoffed again, but she knew I was right.
I mean, even when we went to tour the wrestling facility, the trainers all said that we should get a background in something else before pursuing this. The risk of injury was high, especially in something so physically demanding, and a lot of them were even saying how if they had done it all over again, they would have gone to school first if possible. So why was she bitching so much?
Paige Garcia: I want to go to wrestling school, and I don’t want my career to be cut short because of four years of college. That’s four years I could be training, and possibly like one or two after that I could be in that ring on the television!
My mother motioned to me.
Mrs. Garcia: Why can’t you be more level headed about this like your sister? She knows that you need proper schooling before diving off a cliff, head on into wrestling.
Paige Garcia: Oh sure...she’s just so freakin perfect!
Sara Garcia: Hey, don’t hold it against me that I want to have something to fall back on.
Paige Garcia: That’s just it...YOU want to...I don’t. Simple as that.
Sara Garcia: It’s the smart thing to do, for all of the reasons mom mentioned, not to mention all of those people back at the school. Don’t be stupid.
Oh crap, that wasn’t the thing to say. There’s one thing about my sister, once she gets an idea in her head, it’s nearly impossible to break her from the grasp of said idea until she realizes it isn’t the right way to go.
As far as the “perfect” thing, it absolutely bugged the crap out of her when mom would compare us, just as it would me. I’m not my sister, and she’s not me...not even close.
Paige Garcia: Listen, I’m doing this. I’m going to be a professional wrestler, and if I have to do that on my own, whatever.
She stomped off, and my mom took a few steps forward to try and bring her back.
Mrs. Garcia: Paige! PAIGE!
She stood there with her hands on her hips. She was clearly at odds with the thoughts in her head. She wanted to be there for my sister, but at the same time, she didn’t want either of us setting ourselves up for failure. I understood that...my sister...not so much. She turned to me and walked over, placing her hands on my shoulders.
Mrs. Garcia: Well, at least I have one sensible daughter. You see what I mean though right? I just don’t want her, or you for that matter getting hurt, then being screwed for the rest of your lives with nothing to go for.
I nodded. I was sick of this conversation. My mother and I talked about wrestling school, just as her and Paige had. I was more receptive, and clearly, my sister was not; but it was almost as if she was trying to reaffirm her decision through me.
Sara Garcia: Yes mom. I understand completely where you’re coming from. You’re not wrong here, and maybe she’ll understand that eventually.
My mother spun from me. She was clearly conflicted and finally just threw her hands in the air.
Mrs. Garcia: Maybe she’s right? Maybe this is holding her back and she should be able to just do what she wants.
Sara Garcia: WHAT!?
I felt a rage building up inside of me. After all of this time, praising me as little Miss Responsible, and telling me that I’m doing the right thing, and NOW she’s having second thoughts just to make Paige feel better? NOW she says “Maybe?”. I was shocked with anger as she turned around. My eyes were wide, and if they could glow red, I bet you they would have.
Sara Garcia: Mom, what are you talking about!? Just because she’s throwing a hissy fit, doesn’t mean you give in. What happened to not wanting us to get hurt? What happened to doing the “smart” thing rather than rushing into something where things could go horribly wrong?
She was frantic to calm down my anger and reassure herself.
Mrs. Garcia: I believe in every single bit of that Sara. That’s why I’m hoping and praying you stay the course. It’s why I’m hoping your sister will come through and see things in the same light. But…
I had my hands on my hips and was rolling my eyes. I couldn’t understand her sudden about face.
Sara Garcia: But what mom!? Why the sudden switch? Just because she wants it?
I pointed in Paige’s direction. I then pointed into my chest with the other hand.
Sara Garcia: What about me mom? What if it was me who changed my mind and wanted to do the wrestling right off the bat? Would you be so willing to cave? Would you be so willing to go along with what I wanted?
Mrs. Garcia: I’m not caving sweet…
Sara Garcia: YES YOU ARE! I hear it in your voice. I see it in your mannerisms. It’s the same freaking thing every time she wants something that you don’t want to give her. Would you do the same for me is all I’m asking.
She looked at me and sighed.
Mrs. Garcia: Sara...that’s not fair…
I was getting more and more annoyed with every single word that was coming out of her mouth.
Mrs. Garcia: For one, you wouldn’t lash out like this. You know better. You know that what I’m asking for is the right thing to do.
Sara Garcia: Of course! Little Miss Perfect I am.
I turn and start stomping away as she calls my name as well.
Mrs. Garcia: SARA!
I continue to walk off, waving my hand in the air.
Sara Garcia: WHATEVER MOM! LET HER DO WHAT SHE WANTS!
I continue to storm off to the car, leaving my mother in the field looking at me, then back at my sister, and then back at me before burying her face in her hands, not knowing what to do.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So what does all of this mean for you Fiona?
The scene comes to and I’m shown back on my balcony, leaning comfortably against the railing, again looking out toward the ocean with the wind flowing through my hair.
How is it that this match is different from any of the other times we’ve faced off in the past? Let me guess…
I turn to the camera.
You’re great new moves will propel you to victory! You’ll use this new knowledge and your new superpowers, and you’ll vanquish one half of the evil Garcia Empire.
I roll my eyes.
Please, if it were that simple, my sister and I would have never become the recognizable names that we are. If being a Diamond in the IWF was so easy, we’d just be two nobodies, a lot like yourself, wading through the waters. That might be who you are, wallowing away in the pits of mediocrity, but that IS NOT what my sister and I are about, and it sure as hell isn’t what I’M about.
I point into the camera.
So now, what I have to ask is what you’ll do when you’re stopped in your tracks? What are you going to do when I make you pay for ruining a six hundred dollar dress last week with your little prank? You’re coming in with a slight bit of momentum, but when it comes to our match, I’m going to snuff out any and all hope you may have.
I shrug my shoulders.
Are you going to claim it a fluke? How about call me a cheater? Maybe you’ll tell me that I’m hiding behind my sister, or perhaps, after I beat you, that she’s hiding behind me? That is your shtick isn’t it little girl? You try your best to tear someone down, telling them that their cowards when the real coward in all of this truly is the one across the ring from me at Sacrifice...I’ll spell it out for you sweetie...that’s Y-O-U!
You have all types of excuses for your ineptitude inside those ropes. You have a reason for being one of the biggest failures on the roster. You’ve had opportunity after opportunity to make a name for yourself, and over and over again you’ve failed to do anything worthwhile.
I point again.
Take your biggest achievement to date Fiona. Last year, you won the Iron Maiden, but if you went out on the streets before an event and asked the fans who won, I guarantee you that not a single person would recall, and if they did...they’d be wearing a Fiona McFly shirt. No, the most memorable thing to happen in that Iron Maiden match is the fact my sister won the Shieldmaiden and made it into the title it is today.
I point downward.
Fiona, this coming Sacrifice, the two of us are walking into that ring with something to prove. You need to prove that you’re a legitimate contender for my sister’s championship. You need to show the world that you didn’t get handed your spot just because you pissed her off by ruining our dresses with a bucket of slime. Me? I have to prove that I’m not the “other” or “forgotten” Garcia. I need to show the world what it is I know...that I’m every bit as capable as my sister is.
Unfortunately, for you, you’re the one to be made the example of.
Aren’t you supposed to have the luck of the Irish?
I giggle a bit before waving as the scene fades.
Well howdy there pardner.