I play until sweat pours down my face, creating a pool of salty water underneath me. I breathe hard and gasp for air, my heart beats like a hummingbird's’ wings, but I am unrelenting. There is something that tells me to keep going. It might start off as motivation, but soon the words turn into the ruthless monster. I feel tired and strained, but he tells me that I am a failure if I stop. I work with my ball, dribbling in and out of bright orange cones. Suddenly I slip up, I take an errant touch and I lose my rhythm. The monster gets in my head and commands me to do better. He orders improvement, and will not tolerate any more unthoughtful …show more content…
I believe that my monster has good intentions. He wants me to be the best that I can be, but his cruel words slowly tear me apart. He chips away at my pride as he ridicules faults. I do not just make mistakes in soccer, I am not perfect in any aspect of my life. When it comes down to it, my perfectionism might be disguising my lack of confidence. I am not convinced that I belong in the accomplished community that surrounds me. I strive to do well in order to get approval from others. I want outsiders to see my successes, not my defeats. Yet, a person is not purely defined by their skills, one’s character is far more