It was 4:00 p.m. on Wednesday afternoon when I received a call from my dad. I was expecting a call from him as my mom had just undergone surgery and was scheduled to wake up any minute. Her surgery was minor, but ever since I can remember, she’s had an intense fear of hospitals, so, I took the call, wholeheartedly expecting to hear how my mom’s surgery went.
After assuring me my mom’s surgery went well, he added, “Her season’s over.” Simple, no fluff, no intro, just one statement. Her season’s over. Confused, I asked for clarification and was filled in on the Ivy League’s decision to cancel all spring sports seasons for the rest of the academic year. Even days after that conversation it still hasn’t settled in. My little sister, Abbie, is a freshman at Princeton. As a member of the women’s lacrosse team, she was impacted by the Ivy League’s decision to cancel all remaining contests for spring sports. In the days after, the NCAA Championship has been cancelled and nearly every major conference followed suit by suspending or canceling the remainder of their spring sports’ seasons.
These decisions left me in a sort of limbo in the days after. What about this feels so familiar? I found myself wondering. The feeling would hit sporadically – while at work, while watching Parks & Rec on Netflix, while going for a run. For a while I couldn’t put my finger on it. Until today.
My soul is deeply acquainted with the emotional whirlwind that accompanies an athletic career cut short by illness. The numbness, grief, and longing to have just one more practice, one more lift, one more crazy conditioning session, one more laugh with a teammate. You’re left with a lack of closure, and your mind and body question “What’s next?” in innumerable ways.
I planned on graduating as a member of the Liberty women’s lacrosse team in 2020. I was a part of the senior class that was robbed of their season, although my journey has been slightly different. My sophomore season at Liberty I began experiencing acute anxiety and depression. I would endure panic attacks, self-injury, and suicidal thoughts on a near daily basis. To me, this illness came out of left field – as a high schooler, I was generally happy, upbeat and content with life. Sure, I had hard days, but nothing like I experienced in college.
As I sought healing and recovery, I came back to school for the fall of my junior year in 2018. I had high hopes that my mental illness would be manageable, and I would be able to enjoy the sport I loved so much alongside the rest of my class. I was determined to make this work. God had other plans. After a brief visit home around Thanksgiving, my family, my coaches, and I decided moving home for the spring semester would be best for my mental illness.
So, I made the 5 hour drive back to Baltimore in early December with no conscious thought that I had just completed my last lift in our athletic center as a student-athlete. As the months and weeks at home went by, it was clear to all those around me that being home was the best option for my health in the long-term, so I opted to finish my degree remotely and forego my last season of eligibility.
But…I hadn’t planned for this. This wasn’t how it was supposed to workout. Ever since I was a little girl, I dreamed of playing 4 fulfilling, fun, rigorous seasons of college lacrosse at a Division 1 level. Now, I didn’t have a senior day or a final moment to point to as closure. I had no idea what was next, and I felt that same feeling I’ve felt for all the college lacrosse seniors impacted by the coronavirus lately: limbo. When something is taken from you abruptly, especially by an illness – whether it be a mental illness or the coronavirus, it’s confusing, scary, and unsettling.
As athletes, we are taught to PREPARE for things: prepare for class, prepare for games, prepare for practice. Preparation is key. But as athletes, we are also taught to roll with the punches and accept circumstances we cannot control. In a game, we can’t control the referees, weather, fans, etc. There’s the tension: preparation vs. flexibility.
While this year’s seniors weren’t prepared for their season to end so abruptly, they certainly possess the skills to roll with this crazy circumstance, whatever the NCAA or individual conferences decide in terms of eligibility. If there’s one piece of advice I have for the seniors impacted it’s this: Your sport has taught you countless lessons, and your character, work ethic, and love for others is something no virus can ever take away. You are stronger, more capable, and more powerful than you know. Take it from me – I’ve felt the limbo, and I’ve lived to tell the tale.