More Than a Lap

A year ago, the pool felt like an ocean. When I jumped in on the first day of water polo practice, I couldn’t even make it across before I had to stop. I was so embarrassed and clung to the side as I watched the other girls easily glide through the water. I wanted to quit so bad. It felt safer to avoid coming to practice than to face the glances and whispers. 

But I continued to show up. Every day, I was present and put my best foot forward. There were days when I felt like I was making progress by swimming a little farther and being able to tread a little longer. But there were also days when I’d leave the pool feeling like my skills weren’t going anywhere, like I’d never be as good as the other girls. It didn’t help having some girls on my team who would whisper mean comments about me to each other, but I used their words as motivation instead of letting it get to me. I’d remind myself that no matter what other people thought of me, I was improving, even if my progress was slow. 

Improving was not easy. Without access to a pool, I only had after-school practices to rely on. I showed up to each practice, the summer camp, and even off-season practice, giving my best effort every time I was in the water. Slowly but surely, I would be able to swim longer distances. I told myself that one day, I’d be the player that the new girls would look up to, the one who wouldn’t let them sink mentally and physically. 

Today, I can swim well over a mile without stopping. The same girls who used to laugh at me now greet me like they were always my friends. There are times when I will notice a newer girl struggling in the pool, hesitating on the edge like I once did. I give them a small nod or a word of encouragement because I know how it feels to be new to the sport. A smile is a small thing that doesn’t take much effort, but it may or may not just be the difference between someone having a good day or a bad day. 

So, to those who are struggling with their sport, school, or anything in general, who feel like they aren’t and will never be enough, keep showing up. Everyone has their own journey, and you are capable of much more than you think. I would know because I was in those shoes a year ago, and today, I can swim a lot more than a lap.

Three Years Ago

Three years ago, I noticed his eyes and how they crinkled when he laughed, how they lit up when he talked about his dreams. Back then, we’d stay up late, talking and laughing about everything. He was my best friend, my partner in crime.

But that was three years ago.

Now, I only hear about him through our friends. There are no more late-night talks, no shared moments. I remember feeling seen and cared for, a warmth I hadn’t known before. But somehow, we drifted apart, and something that was everything to me became nothing.

I spent months wondering if I’d done something wrong, replaying our last conversations, questioning myself in silence. No one knew how much it hurt. I wanted closure, but I slowly came to realize that his silence was its own answer. I began to understand that I didn’t need his closure to move on with life, I needed to find that strength in myself.

Looking back, I realize that losing him hurt so much because he was the first person I’d opened up to. But I learned to fill that space with people and things that made me happy. Some things, some people, are meant to be left behind. There is always more life waiting on the other side. Three years ago, I was happy. Today, I am happier.