How Riding a Motorcycle Saved My Life
My story isn’t that unusual. I grew up in a really messed up family. I learned very early on to stand out. I also learned how to get out of the line of fire. My mother says I was a hyperactive child. I was always getting into trouble but I could just as easily getting out of it by flashing my cheeky grin. They decided to medicate me. Although, it may have helped them, I believe it marked the beginning of the search for a peace of mind no medicine could truly provide. My parents went on to medicate themselves instead and although that mostly didn’t end well it freed me to lose myself and find the adventuresome spirit I was born with.
It was in my teen years that I was first exposed to motorcycles and mostly the biker life. I dated a few guys who lived the life and found myself down many roads that I knew I shouldn’t be. The lifestyle intrigued me but these people didn’t share my values and in fact were putting me in harms way. I left high school and set out on an adventure to see the world. Once again, seeking the peace of mind I so desperately needed I never looked back.
My first ever experience, riding a motorcycle, was on one of my several trips to Thailand in the 80’s. I was on the island of Koh Samui in the Gulf of Thailand and living in a grass hut on the beach. I had been convinced to ride a dirt bike up to this amazing lookout that I would never forget and yet I would never actually see. I had been on the back of many bikes but I had never ridden one and the thought terrified me. But don’t forget I am a bit of an endorphin junky and already living on the edge so why not? I listened closely to the instructions from the barely english speaking always smiling Thai man and off we went. At first I was pretty freaked out but once I got it in gear and got a feeling for the throttle I started to feel confidant and that was my first mistake. As we turned onto the road to go up to the look out we realized the road was slightly washed out after all this was the wet season. But, we’re on dirt bikes so what’s the worst thing that can happen? So, off we went up the hill and up and up… now remember, I don’t know how to ride a motorcycle right? Well, in hind sight that clearly made all the difference and if I knew then what I know now the next thing might not have happened. I stalled the bike! On a muddy hill, in what seemed like slow motion, me and the bike fell over and proceed to slide down the hill until we came to a rather underwhelming and mud in your panties stop. My conclusion… that maybe riding a dirt bike was not for me.
So naturally after spending my twenties travelling the globe and seeking my road scholarship I met and married the man of my dreams, Ian.
By the time I was thirty I had a husband, two kids and a mortgage and for every reason the millionaire life. I loved raising my kids. Being their mom was truly the first life affirming task I had ever felt successful at. I poured my heart and soul into it. I am grateful for the years and the memories but if I’m going to be honest, I did it all for them and might have neglected myself a little. It was shortly after my youngest was born that I first started to experience what I call my dark time. I had suffered some injustice in my childhood and it had left me with periods of depression that would at times become debilitating and later evolve into much more. By the time my youngest was off to grade one I was off to school. I poured myself into my new career as a Social Worker. Part of what drove me to this line of work was my over blown sense of injustice stemming from a traumatic past, and although it put my on a collision course, it seemed to fuel my passion. I spent many years serving families in my community with no regrets at all however, sadly, my search for peace of mind had found a road block. After a violent incident during a group, where a participant attacked me, I began to unravel. My depression had become so bad and I could no longer maintain the facade of wellness. I had reached my lowest point and although it is painful to admit I fantasized about my own death. I think during the worst times the only thing that kept me alive was; “how could I do this to my kids and Ian” so I sought professional help. Over the next 6 years I focussed on my wellness. I took the pills the doctor prescribed and saw a psychiatrist weekly. I apprehensively accepted that this was the way it was for me now.
Over the years while all this life was going on, Ian bought his first Harley. He talked about how he’d always wanted one and that back when he road a Yamaha he always dreamed he’d have a hog one day. I, for some reason, embraced the idea and that was the beginning of the rest of my story. Remember I always was intrigued by the biker life but, we were anything but bikers, or were we? After many years of riding two up with Ian and loving the life, I realized that the only way I would ever truly be a part of it was if I rode my own. I had all the gear after all and I had over the years gotten a job working in the motorcycle industry and really developed a passion for the motorcycle and specifically the Harley-Davidson.
So back to how riding a motorcycle saved my life; A few years ago I got very sick and the doctor said I would have to go off my medication which I thought was keeping me alive. I went off all the meds and I went to riding school twice (for the complete story about why twice check out Stella Rides — The Archives).
At the beginning my nerves were intense. I started to get it though and slowly the nerves were replaced with something new, a freedom, and a confidence I had never known. It seems that although I had to face some pretty intense fear head on, I think doing just that is what ignited the fire in me. I felt like a Rock Star! But seriously, as I began to feel confidant and really notice the unmistakeable feeling. It became clear. During my recovery from my “Dark Time” I had began to practice yoga and meditation and although I remained hopeful, I could never quiet my head. I figured out that riding quieted my mind. It gave me that sense of peace I had spent my whole life pursuing. Perhaps because it requires a total focus on the ride and the road ahead. It brought me an inner calm that I can only liken to meditation. Now, two seasons behind me, mental health in check, yet suffering with a severe case of Parked Motorcycle Syndrome, I reflect how riding saved my life. It taught me to find my power and then focus the road ahead while remaining in the moment. In life, hard to do, but easy while riding a motorcycle.
