getting personal

My brother texted me the other night asking if I could help watch his kids (my niece and nephews) as they planned for upcoming parent-teacher conferences. Even just months ago, I never would have dreamed that I would be available on a fall evening to do something so simple, yet special, like this.

Life has changed a lot since leaving the familiar rhythms of college coaching and, like any change, there are both feelings of loss and joy, but above all, there is peace

So, I had to laugh reading the text. My memory floated back to something I hadn’t thought about for a long time: parent-teacher conferences when I was a kid and what ALWAYS came out of them. Without fail, my parents would come home and repeat, “Stephanie is a pleasure to have in class. She is kind, diligent, conscientious and has such great thoughts. Wish she would share them more in class.”

I come from this big family, five kids. I’m the fourth. With so much going on, always hosting people and even people staying or living with us over the years, my comfort zone has been the observer role. There was always someone ahead of me in life to watch and learn from. Environment certainly played its part, but as I’ve done more personality work over the years I’ve realized a lot of it also has to do with quirks in my personality. I can be enigmatically private without realizing it.

So, regarding class -- it’s not an exaggeration to say I NEVER spoke in classes, even in college

Raising my hand to give an answer in class just seemed like trying to show I was smart in front of people or wanting attention. I had no interest in either of those. I hated participation-based classes so much so that I even overloaded my classes in college (registering for more than I should take). I developed a strategy: Go to the first week of every class, get the course rubrics to see what the grades were based on, and drop the class that required the most participation. I was all about the classes where grades were based solely on tests. Unlike being on a field, where I pushed myself to the brink daily, academically I settled for coasting. Sadly it worked for me, but I also knew I was missing out on things (because stubbornness always works like that). It robs you of the fullness of things, and usually you can only see that by looking back later in life. It’s the learning that comes from regret.

At some point you have to grow and face things, or risk being stuck, and those difficult growth points certainly came (and still do!)

The irony of all this, one thing that surprised myself and others over the years was that I had a surprisingly strong voice, but it only really came out when speaking on behalf of the welfare of others. It would come out following observing things over time that I felt a strong conviction for, knew were unjust or wrong, or felt could be better for all. That’s the type of voice that can catch people off-guard, I’ve learned. It came out in times I knew there was a person or group that didn’t have a voice or didn’t have the safety to speak for themselves. Those times came after A LOT of listening, learning, experiencing, and observing patterns. They were never knee-jerk reactions. As life has unfolded, one of the things my path has given me is a lot of crossroad decisions and different chapters with varied experiences, so much so that I often forget about many of them until they come up in conversation with someone. I have often had people say, you could write a book about all these things! To me there has never really been much noteworthy, I’ve just taken it a step at a time, being present and observing, not trying to escape or rush through any season of life. About a year ago though, I started feeling called to express just that: if someone with all the limitations, weaknesses, and blind spots like me can grow, and find direction, then anyone can. What has seemed to some like wandering or bouncing around in my life I have always known to be me following a path of faith and looking to serve, wherever that may lead.

This path has included lots of twists and turns, each one preparing me for the next. Most of the growth has come in the waiting, unknown, and the difficult place for any competitive athlete: surrender

There was a time I was told to expect never to make the varsity field hockey team at my high school (which was an accurate assessment at the time by the way!). Somehow, despite only playing high school field hockey, a college coach took a risk on me and I even made a career with this little sport that just kept challenging me beyond my wildest dreams. The path led me to a university I picked for a coach and the culture I felt when I visited. That shifted as my coach left and I questioned if I had made a huge mistake, picked the wrong sport, and thrown away my future. Just as I was close to quitting or leaving, I ran into my old coach in a train station in Rome while I was on a backpacking trip. That day and the spur-of-the-moment addition of a trip to Belgium to stay with her changed everything. The path led me to an engagement and almost getting married in my early twenties. It led me through the agony and grief of walking away from that relationship and the many years invested, learning how to “quit” for the first time in my life. I said goodbye to every dream I thought there was for my life. Little did I know that it made space for more than I could have imagined. The path led me to counseling troubled teens, where I was reminded daily how much resilience humans can have in the face of the unspeakable. I learned the value of looking below the surface and knowing someone’s story. Life brought me to live in a retirement home in my early twenties (it’s ok to laugh, it’s hilarious, and yes I did eat dinner at 4:30pm, sneak ice cream cups at night from the community fridge, and play cards with the seniors). There was a twist where I was hired as a police officer after an intense hiring process of months and hundreds of candidates (yep, this is real). I lived and worked with the developmentally and intellectually disabled, learning that the concepts I had of success, joy, and ability instilled from the athletics world were very limited. These young people had more of those things than many of the most successful people in athletics. I left everything and moved to Chicago to put down roots only to pick up and pack a car for Virginia and a coaching job months later. My car was packed to the brink with no place to sleep on the other end of the trip.

On this college coaching adventure I’ve experienced everything you could imagine, including lots of mistakes along the way from me, and learning from every person I’ve been privileged to work with (athletes and coaches)

There are coaching jobs I’ve lost (we don’t like talking about that but need to because it’s a normal part of the business), coaching jobs that found me when I wasn’t wanting change, and coaching jobs I was almost too stubborn or prideful to take. There have been times I’ve chosen loyalty to a mission, institution, or group and times I’ve chosen to speak up and separate from things I knew to be wrong. This is the business of coaching and athletics, and it’s never been personal to me nor did I ever feel beholden or afraid of anyone in it, because the business (and sport itself) has never been my identity or life. Peace has always come from something and someone far greater. Sport and coaching is something I’ve done, had an aptitude and a passion for, and seen as a dream-come-true, but it has never been something I have been willing to trade peace for, at any step along the way.

Most recently some of my other passions were revived following a season of grief in 2020, the significant personal growth that came out of it, and much of what I was observing over years in this business. The greatest growth in my life has come from the things none of us would ask for. That’s true of most of us, we just rarely share it. Without earlier seasons of grief in life, there is no way I could have navigated the loss of this more recent season. Like many of those seasons, only the closest in my circle knew what was going on. I think when you’re private people assume you carry things yourself, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. We aren’t meant to walk these things alone.

My story is one where I know God has used those places of grief, pain, loss, and even betrayal to grow my heart and capacity for compassion.

I know and work with many people whose lives are based on different paradigms, but that is my truth. There is no peace or ability for me to get better rather than bitter without the grace I have received and can freely give others in my life.

Going back to raising my hand in class and sharing my thoughts… I have been in this place since 2020 that’s been uncomfortable for me.

I have outgrown some of those old defaults and started using my voice more. I’ve also known it’s time to share more of my personal thoughts and story because of the isolated struggles so many are having.

Modeling and normalizing vulnerability has always been something I’ve strived to do with the staffs and athletes I’ve worked with, but doing it on a larger scale is a new challenge. I’ve had to work through the feeling that it’s drawing attention to me and the comfort of my private nature. It’s also not something all have or will receive.

Vulnerability around athletics is one of those tricky things that, in the wrong hands, can certainly be weaponized. Athletes have been outspoken about that fear but no one is putting a voice to that for coaches. It is a shame for both because mutual vulnerability is where great things happen in sport and life.

So I am going to push myself in just that…being vulnerable. So many of you reach out to me and entrust me with the privilege of meeting you in your place of vulnerability. I know it’s time to push myself into more of that with you. Thank you to those who have reached out and mentioned that something I’ve shared, written, or we’ve discussed has been helpful for you. We can look at people and assume they don’t have flaws, tragedy, or broken places in their story. I have seen young people over the last few years experiencing the greatest anxiety I’ve ever seen about being authentic, flawed, and human. Even more concerning, they are largely doing it ALONE, believing something is innately wrong with them or that others can’t handle the real them. It’s heartbreaking. I have also seen adults who have gone so far on the path of stoicism and defensiveness, while being in places of leadership, the ramifications are devastating for themselves and those around them.

The realm of sport is so far behind others in normalizing a non-linear path of learning and growth, one that includes loss, failure, and at times surrender of control. We HATE those things, and do everything we can to avoid them, don’t we?

So, I don’t know what story to start with, and even though I’ve been putting off taking this step as I build out other parts of this new venture, I know it’s time to start sharing more via this blog. Not all stories are serious or intense. For all the seriousness of my life those who know me know there has been just as much, if not even more, comedy and fun. One of the things I always loved about coaching is the accountability it breeds in you. You have to walk what you would ask of others, so since I am not accountable to a boss or team anymore, you guys and my clients are my accountability to keep pushing through this! Ok?!