Shapeshifting

by Jessica Uzarski

Some moments in my life have required me to shift shapes… and climbing has always been there to shapeshift along with me.

I started climbing in an old converted factory building in Pontiac, Michigan in the late 2000’s. I had just caught a short movie on the Eiger a few weeks earlier, and was so captivated that I immediately located the closest place to pull on plastic. As soon as I arrived at the gym, I was overwhelmed. The smell of chalk in the air, the intimidatingly steep walls, the desk manager who went from customer service mode to a heroic and terrifying overhanging lead in seconds, hand painted walls with deserts and critters, infinite brackets hung with incomprehensible gear, and a small grouping of holds with “V1” scrawled in nearby tape. I’ve climbed in many gyms since, but there is something so special about the first foray into a space like that. The newness, the nerves, and the adventure all swirled into a picture I couldn’t resist. I was hooked.

Climbing was there for me then as an answer to self-doubt and restricted confidence. At the time, I had no idea who I was, but If I climbed enough, and tried hard enough, I felt I could call myself a climber. At the gym I mostly kept to myself, or climbed with my partner. I was reluctant to meet others, and was quite shy. But the gym allowed me space and identity, and gave me direction. After a few years climbing as much as I was able, I graduated from college and headed West to places with more than just plastic.

I came to Davis in 2011 to attend law school, though my ulterior motive was moving to a place near real rocks. At school I strived to find myself once more, but again felt increasingly uneasy in the identity I was slowly growing into. I felt like I was playing a role. In law school, in between studies, I magically, magnetically, connected with the few other students who climbed, and with them I felt centered once more and could temporarily escape the feeling of inauthenticity.

They took me outside on my first routes and taught me how to lead. As they began to bloom into trad climbers, I followed along picking up as much knowledge as I could. Climbing had become something different from what it had previously been for me. I was making deep friendships and sharing adventures. Instead of bouldering alone in a quiet gym, I was sleeping under the stars near the Gold Wall, or wheezing my way up approaches to short climbs in the valley with friends. In law school I felt socially isolated from my peers and, increasingly, myself. Climbing was there to thread mentorship, friendship, and purpose into a life that was increasingly, confusingly, feeling wrong.

It’s cliche and cheesy, but in the years after law school, climbing saved my life. As I turned inward and away from people, and as emotional fatigue crept higher and higher, I threw myself into trad, glacier travel, and finding big adventures on long climbs. The feeling of reaching a point of fear, having panic rise, and turning it off just long enough to reach for that next hold was feeling more routine. I would soon find a good use for that skill.

In the fall of 2019 a lifetime of alienation from my feelings finally caught up with me, and I heeded the messages I had pressed down from my earliest memories. It was once again time to shapeshift, but this time more profoundly and finally I came out as transgender to those close to me, and to my climbing community. It was one of the best decisions of my life. And to my absolute delight, the climbing community embraced me more fully than I could have ever imagined. Old friendships deepened with renewed honesty, and new friendships blossomed. New partnerships materialized.

I finally felt completely like myself, and climbing was there to welcome that change. It shifted with me once more and has made my life whole. Climbing partnerships with other women have been an incredible source of joy. Providing mentorship for budding trad and alpine climbers, partnering up with rad ladies for joyous days in the alpine, or just sitting at the club table hanging out. To me, that is the magical shape shifting aspect of climbing. The different disciplines, and all of the kaleidoscope-like combinations of the climbing experience help it morph into what you need in the moment. Even after doing this for decades, I still cannot wait to see my friends at the gym, slap a sleeping pad down on a granite slab, or step up onto the first hold of a wall. I hope, with all of climbing’s variability, that none of these things ever change.