For breakfast this morning I ate a perfectly sweetened, crisped-top, round-bottom,  blueberry muffin. But that isn't relevant to my story… yet. In the first grade, I was put into Lowell youth lacrosse by my parents. Growing up, I was always playing sports; soccer, volleyball, basketball, Lacrosse. But, not every sport stuck like Lacrosse did. I had a promised future, and at thirteen was told that I could get scholarships if I continued to play into high school. That promised future is no longer.

As I got older I started to notice that playing a sport meant that you are expected to perform and look a certain way; or at least that's how it seemed: Thin, little, fast. Growing up I was always the tallest and biggest in the class. Friends always told me I gave great hugs, looked like a teddy bear, and would huddle around me for ‘warmth.’ I never felt feminine. As a woman, I felt the standard is needing to act a certain way, need to look a certain way, speak a certain way. I felt like a monster in comparison to the standards.

February 2020, so far my time as an eighth grader was perfect. My eighth year of Lacrosse had just commenced. I was beyond excited to play, I was stronger, faster, and better than I've ever been before. After a few weeks of practice, we got the email, lacrosse is no longer. Covid hit.

During the lockdown, in-person school was not an option, since Lacrosse had been canceled I was done playing with my team. I could do whatever I want, whenever I wanted… could eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted.  So I ate. I ate when I was hungry, upset, bored. This binging eventually developed into an eating disorder. I noticed the problem but could not stop myself. Too difficult. Instead, I promised I’d stop the next day… slowly turning into a week… then a month… eventually a year. I began gaining weight rapidly, slowly starting to hate who I was. Turning away from every mirror, refusing to eat in front of anyone, I was wearing clothes twice my size in hopes to hide how big I was.

Sophomore year. My first real year of high school. Lacrosse was finally an option. Coming back to school felt like being stranded on a deserted island. I wanted to wither away. Friends asked if I was going to play Lacrosse again… “I'm not sure,” I told them. I was hyper-aware of how I looked. I just kept on imagining these thin athletic girls on the team watching and laughing as I walked onto the field. I was too embarrassed and humiliated just thinking about it. So I didn't try out.

Throughout my sophomore year, into the summer and the start of my junior year, I watched people my age finding their cliques, getting jobs, having fun just living life. I was envious, so I worked with myself, opened myself up to people, got my first job, and was able to find my worth. Involving myself made me realize I shouldn't be exhausting my mental health with such pitiful thoughts and feelings. Fortunately this spring I decided to open up by joining the Lacrosse team.

I am nearing the end of my junior year; a proud member of the Lowell High team. Although joining Lacrosse again has been challenging because of the gap years, I live with no regrets. My ‘promised future’ may not exist anymore but I’m thrilled to be involved and reconnect with the sport that I grew up playing and love. My self-esteem is also at its peak. I'm no longer afraid of mirrors, I wear what I want, and I love who I am and the body I have. So with that being said, I am now able to eat that blueberry muffin without the fear of being rejected by society.

© Katelyn. All rights reserved. If you are interested in quoting this story, contact the national team and we can put you in touch with the author’s teacher.