I have been in a funk since the beginning of the year. I am not sick. I may be a bit depressed. I could be mourning the loss of my father who passed away in December, or worried about finances as my girls get older.
No, that’s not it. I know exactly why I am living in Funk Town. My daughter quit travel softball.
My A student, starting 3rd base, also a catcher, batting 5th in the order every game, week in and week out 12 year old said she didn’t want to play anymore.
My heart sank.
We had multiple, very mature conversations about this and I won’t get into detail about her reasons why, other than it made complete sense and had nothing to do with her teammates, coaches or other parents.
But still. Damn!
I can proudly admit that I wasn’t one of “those” parents who meddled in the coach’s decisions about my daughter or the team. I didn’t need to. I can also proudly admit that I didn’t tell my daughter what to do from the stands. I was, for all intents and purposes, a “perfect” sports parent. When the games were over, we didn’t obsess in the car about what went right or wrong either. We rehashed the day, discussed the good and bad, and within a very short time, the conversations moved away from softball.
Still. Mind blown!
I had no idea she was even thinking about quitting. She was always very happy on the field and had even recently bought a new DeMarini bat for $300 with her own money.
Seven months later and I am still not over it. I am a terrible parent right? This isn’t about me. This is about my daughter finding her way in the world, making mature decisions, and supporting her right to lead her own life.
The fact is, it was about me. From the standpoint that seeing my daughter thrive on the field was like a drug. Practices, batting cages, games. Higher and higher and higher. Especially because she was damn good. I was up before her even on days we had to set the alarm for 4:30am. I had the car packed and ice chest ready to go well before it was time to leave. I had my outfit set to match the colors of her uniform.
And then it was gone.
The hours spent with friends talking about not just softball, but life. Gone in a flash. I was so invested in her sport, I didn’t spend time building my life and doing the things I should have been doing for myself. So now that softball was over, I had to find myself.
I am still looking.
Why would she leave a sport she was so good at? Doesn’t she know that she was on the path to playing college softball?
In hindsight, I look back on the faces of the girls she played with and I only ever saw a few who, in my opinion, had the true passion to spend the kind of time on the field these girls do. This doesn’t mean they didn’t enjoy the game or weren’t great players. I just wonder how many other girls feel the way my daughter did, but don’t want to let their parents or coaches down.
There is a lot of pressure and sometimes it seems as if the coaches and parents treat the team and sport as if they were playing themselves. I understand it because I lived it too.
I am proud of my daughter.
I am still working on myself.