While I was growing up, soccer was my thing. I was always the best. I was the kid who would take on my brothers teammates just to prove I could hang with them. I was a confident kid. Then we moved from Pennsylvania (club soccer) to Tennessee and I was suddenly back to co-ed at 12 years old. Slide tackling was always a sure fire way to get ejected in club because kids don’t know how to avoid taking out ankles- I found that out when boys had to stop a girl who was quicker than they were. Playing with 14 year old boys who had a chip on their shoulder ruined the game for me even at such a young age. It was my first true heartbreak looking back.
I tried other things in high school trying to find my new niche but I wasn’t the best. I was JV. It was horrifying coming from a family of athletes. It was a heavy weight I carried for a long time- knowing what true confidence felt like and lacking even an ounce. Watching my brothers continue to excel, as they always did, and failing to do so on so many levels killed me slowly and silently. Let me be clear- this was all self-induced. My parents always supported me even if it meant coming to games just to watch a halftime dance for cheerleading. They didn’t compare me to my brothers or tell me to do better (unless I deserved it) I was just a confused teenager that couldn’t find where I belonged.
My freshman year of college brought these years of worry crashing down around me. I went to a community college, lived at home, and for the first time in my life, wasn’t a part of a club or team I could hide behind. I was miserable. My grades showed it. Christmas break 2014 I can picture my room as I cried wondering what I was doing with my life after seeing my grades. I hated myself.
And then Jesus called me. He showed me I could do more and I had a weird, renewed interest in soccer. I started working out. Running. Running faster and lifting heavier. Kicking the ball around like old times. It felt good, oh man, it felt good! I worked hard that whole semester for a wild dream of college soccer. After a lot of unreturned inquiries, I had a tryout. Then 2 tryouts. I’ll be honest, I hung in there, but barely. While my hard work showed, it was pretty obvious I didn’t play soccer in high school. But I did it. I got 2 offers for a scholarship to play soccer in college. God is amazing. He blessed me despite my many doubts and for the first time in a long time, I felt a sense of pride. Jesus did all the work, I just followed those gentle urges.
I was still riding the high going into my first semester as a college athlete. I had gotten comfortable mentally and wasn’t prepared for the battles I would face throughout the course of my first serious relationship and navigating life away from home for the first time. I worked so hard, made the team, but I was on JV; I knew I still had to work twice as hard to get to where I wanted to be and I got caught up in life. I slacked off and was still in the best shape of my life, but college soccer is a different level of quick. I didn’t have the basics down and was embarrassed to ask for help so tried to fake it. I got caught up in an image I wanted to portray and lost myself. I hurt myself staying in a toxic relationship that I knew was draining me. I always had that gentle urge to come back Home (to Jesus) but tried to convince myself I didn’t have time. I was focused on all the wrong things and once again slipped into someone I hated. I got to the point I convinced myself God wouldn’t want me anymore. The devil was winning and I lost my will to fight.
My life exhibited someone who had lost the fight to be something more. I was complacent. I was numb. I did so many stupid things trying to “feel something” I lost many friendships because I didn’t want to acknowledge my actions had consequences. I had very little self-awareness and was silently drowning in my own confusion. I stayed that way for a long time. Always getting a little spark back, going full force until I exhausted myself, beat myself up, and convinced myself it was too hard. It wasn’t meant for me. I started so many different things, schools, jobs, cities but never finished before finding the next best thing I couldn’t wait for.
My walk with Christ fluctuated with the sparks. I would be doing well, hit a speed bump, and flop completely off the wagon like a dead body. Why is my life so hard? Why is my mental state so fragile? I have to fight to make it to the end of the day and it’s exhausting. I’m tired. What’s the point? Why kill myself to help others? I can’t save everyone so what difference does it make if I save one person?
I had this toxic chip on my shoulder that made me feel like I had to be absolutely amazing at everything I tried or I failed. I needed to be good at something. I got into my dream graduate school, Northeastern University. But Boston is incredibly expensive and I had to work full time to pay the bills so I could even attend that school. Working 7-3 and being in class 430-9 takes a toll. I convinced myself I could do other things and dropped out of school. Yet another failure.
The common theme of my life can be explained as achieving the first goal, and quitting when it got hard. Always looking for the next best thing. I couldn’t figure out why I felt the need to prove myself in every single situation I faced. But that was the only motivation I had. Let me tell you, that leads to a very weak mindset. I had made it through so much, I didn’t consider myself weak. But I was. And I realized it when I started listening to podcasts instead of music in the car. I started reading instead of scrolling on my phone. I spent most of my time trying to make myself stronger and better. I gained a new level of self-awareness I didn’t know was possible.
Self-discovery is not easy. It’s ugly and messy and failure after failure. But you don’t get to those breakthroughs without the failures. Often times, we have to learn what’s not meant for us to find what is. If you quit too soon, you miss seeing the view from the top of the mountain. The hike is brutal, but that view is worth it. And I’m not even at the top yet! I’ve conquered small mountains and have had the opportunity to stop for a breather and enjoy the small glimpse of beauty. It’s incredibly reviving and I kick myself for sitting down 5 steps before completion because it’s so hard. I prolonged the pain and delayed the refreshment for my soul because I just couldn’t find the strength to step over that log. Step over that log. Find the strength. The much needed refresher is coming but you have to finish the fight. The feeling that comes from finishing strong is what warriors are made of.
Endure the pain; steel is formed in the fire.
“Don’t stop when you’re tired; stop when you’re done. Stay hard.” -David Goggins
Always here,
Miss. Misunderstood
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