My First Heartbreak part 1

This is the story about my first heartbreak my freshman year of college. No it wasn’t by a boy, that’s for another post. This heartbreak has to do with lacrosse.

I love lacrosse and as soon as I realized I was getting good enough to play in college I decided to begin the recruitment process. That in itself is a whole journey but after months of emailing and awkward phone calls I went to my first college visit. My mom and I drove out to Colorado, went on a tour of the school, partook in a fair amount of icebreakers, and met with the lacrosse coach. I was head over heels in love. We are talking mountains, parties, boys, no parental guidance, and free laundry- a girl’s college dream. The team was going into it’s first season and I was excited to make history in the program. I was a 17 year old junior in high school and in love with the thought of college. My mom and I were driving home later that crisp February Sunday and I told her I had decided that was the school for me. We were ecstatic. The handwork paid off. I got a scholarship and was going to be a D2 college lacrosse player. I sent the coach an email that Monday sealing the deal.

Fast forward 2 years later and I am sobbing thinking about leaving my whole life in KC behind and moving to Colorado for college. But I held onto the fact that it was my dream to be in the mountains and play lacrosse. I didn’t show it but I held back tears the whole 8 hour car ride across Kansas, in the hotel room at night, and my first night sleeping in my dorm. I had faith though, I mean everyone is scared at first when they get dropped off at college. So we do the whole orientation thing, I meet my new roommates, I am thinking OK this isn’t perfect so far but I will find my people. Weeks past and I am struggling. BIG TIME. Struggling like the little sheltered girl I was had never struggled before. I had no friends. And as someone who prides herself on being as easy going and approachable as possible this tore me apart. And the worse part was that I cried every day at practice. I wasn’t fitting in with my teammates, my lacrosse skills were dropping, and my love for the game was vanishing. I remembered my mom always told me to be an advocate for myself. I am not one to crawl up in a ball and give into my emotions. A few weeks in and I found myself holding back tears the whole time during our 3 hour long practice. I went up to my coach and told her with tears coming down my face that I was not doing well. I told her I felt lost at school and on the team. This conversation is burned into my memory. She tells me to go to the school therapist.

I make my first therapy appointment in my whole life. As soon as I sit on the couch I start sobbing (finding a common theme here?). I tell her my issues of not having friends, not really getting along with my teammates, and missing home. A lot. She tells me it’s common to get home sick and to try attending a group therapy session. So I paid the $20 and went on my way feeling more alone than ever. I have a meeting with my coach telling her about my therapy session and she tells me maybe try joining a club. Okay sorry the sarcasm is coming out but YEAH LET ME JOIN A CLUB. SHOULD I DO THAT BEFORE OR AFTER OUR 3 HOUR LONG PRACTICES AND 2 HOUR LONG STUDY HALLS AND HOUR LONG WEIGHTS AND 15 CREDIT HOURS??? This conversation was another dead end. We kept journals as a team that we would turn in each week. I tried writing inspirational quotes to motivate myself and show my coach how hard I was trying. But after a little over a month I knew something had to change and my coach was not going to help me. There is a lot more that happened during this first month and a half in Colorado but I’m not trying to write a book here. I started researching other schools and what it entailed to transfer. By October I knew I couldn’t stay in Colorado. I had countdowns for every time I could go home or to visit my then boyfriend. I was depressed with no support system besides my friends from high-school who were thriving at college and my parents. Ironically my parents became my best friends when we lived 8 hours apart instead of a level away in our house. So I told my coach right before Thanksgiving break that I was quitting. I told her it was nothing against her or the team but I was very homesick and knew that it wouldn’t be healthy for me to stay. She seemed like she understood. I left her office feeling scared, like a failure, but happy to move forward. That night we were supposed to have a team Thanksgiving dinner. I planned on going to say my goodbyes to my teammates, some of who I did get to know pretty well by that point. As soon as I got back into my room I saw my coach had removed me from the team group message and texted me to bring back all of my equipment as soon as possible the next day. Heartbreak shot through me. I wasn’t allowed to go to the team dinner and I had to give my roommates on the team the food I had bought for it. I didn’t think I could get any sadder but that night brought something out in me I had never felt before. The next 2 months consisted of me trying to just survive with out lacrosse or happiness. I always thought of Colorado as my happy place, but it housed me at my sadness point. Of course I felt relieved every time my roommates suited up for practice and I didn’t have to go, but I also was missing part of my identity. I barely went to class or worked out. I just did what I had to do to get good grades and everyday I researched what school to go to next. I applied to Rockhurst, Creighton, and The University of Kansas. I got into all 3 for the Spring semester. I was faced with this choice of going back to my hometown and playing lacrosse or giving up on my dream of being a D2 lacrosse player and going to Creighton or The University of Kansas. As I was making this decision I embarked on a battle no 18 year old should be put through. It was like I was living my senior year of high school as a freshman in college. My junior year of high school i committed to my Colorado school and signed A National Letter of Intent. I was so proud for committing so early to college. I only applied to the one school. It was the best day ever but I had no idea how legally binding the piece of paper was. After quitting the Colorado lacrosse team I decided to continue to play lacrosse at Rockhurst which at the time was in the Rocky Mountain Athletic Division, just as the Colorado school was. It turns out my coach would have to release me from my NLI so I could play that same year at Rockhurst. OK no biggie she will release me, I have only played in practices and like one fall ball tournament (barely). Nope. I wasn’t getting out of this contract. My heart broke again. I just wanted to be happy and play lacrosse. I was so young and I felt like I had done something wrong. And then this person, my coach, who I had committed my next 4 years of hard work to was denying me of that happiness. My parents and I did everything in our power to convince the school and my coach to let me go. But it wasn’t happening. Even my future coach at Rockhurst and old high school coaches were pleading for my release from the contract. I had conference calls with the NCAA trying to show them that I deserved to play that Spring season. Nothing worked and I was denied a whole year of eligibility. A feeling that no one can understand until it happens to them. It sounds dramatic typing it out now, but I hated my life. I was starting over and the one thing I could count on, lacrosse, was no longer in my control.

After Christmas break I was officially a student at Rockhurst University and back to square one. I was out of shape and mildly depressed.

This fight lasted all throughout my freshman year. I showed up to every practice at Rockhurst ready to go even though I knew I couldn’t play. I still had hope that something would happen to release me. I remember the first game day of my freshman spring season I had slept at home the night before because I was so emotional about not playing. I was healthy and capable to play, why couldn’t I? I woke up crying and literally screaming at my parents. But I showed up and cheered on my team.

I was not eligible to play in anything besides practice until Spring of my Sophomore year. A lot happened in that time but I felt alive again. I made some amazing friends, I trusted my coach, and my teammates supported me even though I was never out on the field with them during a game. I don’t know what made me keep going. I knew that I had the strength within me and after that year I wasn’t going to let anyone else control my future. I deserved to have my dream.

So I got over my first heartbreak. I overcame my depression and anxiety around being deemed a failure for coming back home. I worked harder than I had ever worked before but I also let myself get frustrated. But the real kicker is, I thought after that year I was golden. No more struggles for this girl. I am playing on a D2 lacrosse team!!! SIIIIIKE. The night before my first game of my sophomore spring season and I was literally acting like a kid on Christmas Eve. My first game of my college career after sitting out for a whole year and I didn’t get in for one minute.

To be continued :)