Personal Narrative: My Experience With Soccer

I used to play soccer and enjoyed it thoroughly to the extent to which I would call my coach when rain canceled practice because I didn’t think the water would hurt anyone. Shin guards were like another layer of skin to me, and my cleats seemed to remain attached to my feet more times than not. It was the one thing in my life I felt sure I was decent at. I had the speed, and the muscle to kick the ball across the field; I felt unstoppable. Eventually, a bunch of girls in my age group and I converted to a club team, and life seemed to flip upside down. My speed no longer seemed like speed, my legs seemed to function as if I were on ice skates, and the ball felt foreign against my feet. I quickly felt out of place, and anxiety bubbled within
me. Every practice became something I dreaded because no matter how hard I pushed myself I still felt inadequate to the other girls. One day my coach pulled me aside and explained to me that I was, "too skinny to be playing this sport." I felt alienated from the team after that and slowly lost any motivation to keep working hard. Some people called it lazy; however, others recognize it as giving up. That's what I had done, and with that, I ended soccer. A thirteen-year chapter of my life suddenly slammed shut never to be reopened. The thought of me on the field still plays out in my dreams, but I shove those ideas aside and remember that I have found a new passion, one where I feel welcomed and accepted.