Life | Let’s Play Catch Up And Reintroduce Ourselves | Welcome (Back) A Red Arrow

It’s been a minute, huh? 

I think anyone living through these last four-five years will tell you that time is inexplicably warped since the pandemic. Looking back on these first blog posts, written during that time of uncertainty and fear and lockdowns and masks and social distancing, is a trip. I worked so hard to do something of my own, make a space to explore what I wanted to write about, make it a safe space to tell those stories. I tried to write what I felt was right but would maybe get somewhere through the static of the internet, even as everything moves faster than ever before.  

And then I tried to do something else, as the world started opening back up, and I got my position back at The Liverpool Offside, and everything kept changing. 

Honestly I had no idea what I was doing. I still don’t, not really. Does anyone? 

I’ve always envied the people who had a clear path in front of them. They knew what they wanted, where they were going, and how to get it. Every step was easy to visualize, the path clearly marked, checkpoints tangible and accessible. They could make plans, schedule when to get things done, and how. People who could say yes, that’s what I want, and I know what to do to make it happen. 

The only thing I’ve ever really been sure of is that I want to write. It’s the only thing I’ve ever felt like I’m really good at, that I enjoy doing, and felt like I could make a career of. 

It always felt like my thing. Then somewhere along the way, it wasn’t anymore. The doubt crept in and made a hole in the soil, reaching roots into my foundations. 

Like a lot of women with ADHD, I struggle with something called rejection sensitive dysphoria. I’ll spare you the official definition but it is essentially related to the symptom of emotional dysregulation that often comes with ADHD, and is the experience of physical sensations when faced with real or perceived rejection or criticism. When it comes up, it feels differently for everyone but it can be like intense anxiety, fear, dismay, embarrassment, among a myriad of other feelings. That kind of experience can then lead to feelings of shame, depression, disappointment, and a need to hide or mask what can be seen by neurotypical people as an outsized reaction to a regular part of life. 

I’ve struggled with it my whole life. I have a journal entry from middle school where I wrote that I could feel the pain spreading through my chest, and it all just hurt so bad. I didn’t know it shouldn’t feel that way, feel that bad or that hard, but it did and I didn’t know what to do or how to handle it. 

Doing something creative, putting yourself out there for the world to see, being vulnerable in the way that making art is… that’s really scary for someone like me. 

And I’ve heard it all, right. I’ve told myself all of it. Consistency is the key! You just have to do it! You just have to get past it! Other people’s opinions shouldn’t matter! You shouldn’t need outside validation for what you love to do! Keep doing it even if you feel like nothing you write is good enough! Success doesn’t come overnight! 

Friends, I’ve come to the realization that any artist that tells you they don’t care about outside validation is probably lying.  

To say I didn’t care that this little blog couldn’t crack 100 views (and that was on my best posts) would be lying. I have posts with 7 views, to this day. We make art to be seen, and recognized through it. We make art for others to recognize themselves in it, and feel the human connection we need to survive. 

The lack of visibility, of recognition, is a different kind of rejection. The kicker is that I kept doing it, I kept trying to make something work, until the little goblin in my head that sounds suspiciously like Gollum said no one cares. 

Once that sneaks its way into your head, it’s hard to shake. Especially when you have a mental disability that makes your emotions feel bigger and more unfamiliar every time they come up. 

Eventually, the idea of putting words to blank document induces the same kind of anxiety that comes from an unexpected “we need to talk” text. All I wanted to do was hide and pretend I had never tried. 

Does this sound familiar? Oh yeah, because I wrote a frighteningly similar post about it… (checks calendar) five years ago. And it’s still there. 

I couldn’t even keep up the new schedule I set for myself because even one post a week was just wishful thinking after churning out three 1k word posts a week for the better part of a year. I just didn’t do it. Anyone with ADHD could probably see how this happens. The hurdles of “what if no one reads it” “what if no one cares” “why bother” became insurmountable, because I had admitted to them. And that meant I dealt with them, even if I clearly hadn’t, and my brain said okay we can let that go. There’s too much anxiety there anyway. 

So, you’re probably wondering why I wrote 800 words to get to this point. 

The truth is I still don’t know. I don’t know if I’m going to do better than I did before. 

But I kept everything up because somewhere, I still had hope of building a space, of getting more eyes on my words, and speaking about the things I love. The world has changed a lot since 2021 and I wonder if I can find some more space for what I want to put out into the world, maybe it'll be a little more accessible in the static.

If you’ve stuck around this long, if you’re new here, or if you’ve just forgotten. 

Hi, I’m Jordan. My friends and family call me JJ. 

I’ve loved sports my whole life. Growing up in suburban Texas I bounced around from karate to ice skating to baseball to soccer, because I loved feeling tough, and not being tied down to stereotypically girly things. (Bet you didn't guess I’m an eldest daughter, too). 

I also loved reading, and writing came along as soon as I learned how to craft stories. Elementary school? Yeah that feels right. 

I found Liverpool FC in 2010 following that year’s World Cup, when a friend online from Singapore told me she had been born and raised a Liverpool fan and now I should give them a chance. “Now that you’re interested in watching soccer.” 

I couldn’t tell you the team we’d played, what day it was or when, or even how I got the pirated stream for a match, but I watched that ramshackle team and thought, “yeah okay, there’s something here.”  It would take a little more for LFC to become a bigger part of my life, another year or two, but that would coincide with the 2013/14 season, and if you were a fan then, you know what a roller coaster that was. 

I’ve been wading in the pool of life ever since. 

I needed to do a little bit of a remodel, to retake this space. With more women than ever building communities and finding their people within the football/soccer space, this little blog reached out to me again. I want to make a space for other fans that are women, to feel welcomed in a male dominated area. I want this space to be an anchor, a touchpoint, for new and old fans. 

A lighthouse for those of us that aren’t close enough to Anfield to go every other week, but still want to be part of the fandom. Learn the songs, and the lore (especially for a club that is over 120 years old). You can be a fan your whole life and learn something new every time.

If you’ve stuck around this far, welcome. I’m so happy to have you. Let me know where and how you watch Liverpool, and maybe we can all do it together. 

I hope you find a place here, and I hope my stories of being a fan, and what the club means to me, connect with you in some way. 

Welcome to A Red Arrow.