Growing up, I loved my sport.
Was I any good? Nope. I was complete rubbish – totally unco.
I played tennis every week and I could probably count on one hand the amount of times I actually made contact with the ball.
But I loved it because it was social. I loved it because it introduced me to new people, and I loved it because even though I was rubbish, my mum would come along every week and cheer me on like I was the greatest player at Wimbledon.
And then one day, I didn’t want to go to tennis anymore.
The sudden turnaround confused my parents, who were understandably perplexed about the change of heart.
But I insisted I wanted to give up. I wasn’t getting any better, and one particular comment from the dad of an opponent really sealed the deal.
Just as an FYI, you should know that this post is sponsored by Nestlé. But all opinions expressed by the author are 100% authentic and written in their own words.
As a 10 year old child, to hear a parent say “This one is awful, I can’t believe you would pair my daughter with someone who can’t even hit the ball” is horrible. It’s damaging, and the effects are felt long after the match is over.
Even though I fought with her about it, mum made me continue. She didn’t want to see me give up on something I loved so much.
She didn’t know why I had suddenly changed my mind, so she made me persevere.
I’m guessing mum must have had a chat with the coach, because one week he pulled me aside to ask what was going on. I confided in him that I felt I wasn’t good enough to play, and that everyone was better than me. I felt embarrassed that other parents were making remarks about me, and was humiliated that the other father would comment so loudly on my (lack of) ability.
Top Comments
Saturday in the late 70's early 80's was all about sport ! I lived in a bayside suburb and my grandparents looked after usMy other was not well. Every Saturday l would get up early , ride my ole rusty Malvern Star to the tennis club hoping for a game in my Dunlop Volleys with my John Newcombe Tennis Racquet (wooden) and occasionally i was allowed a hit (inbetween all the other games where there parents could afford the club fees). I did not care and l loved it - i had no idea what l was doing but loved it. Then l ride that ole rusty Malvern star 10 kilometres to the netball at the local school and sat there watching and hoping someone wouldn't turn up so l could get a game. Finally i would make my way to the Basketball stadium and played in whatever team was short and as l was in full blown puberty (couldn't afford a BRA) i would put bandaids on my nipples so no-one could see them under my shirt .
I am now a business owner with 2 beautiful boys a loving husband and a completely happy normal life !
Sport was not competitive it was an escape and everywhere i went i was so accepted and looking back it was possibly the happiest time of my childhood. My kids play sport but its all about team and acceptance . In my youth parents didn't even go and we had to take ourselves ahhhhh the good old days.
I was the opposite. I loved sport and was reasonably good at a few things...swimming, gymnastics, netball, athletics. I also had lazy parents who hated 'running me around the countryside' to participate. They made negative remarks about my abilities and mistakes. Eventually their attitude took all the joy out of it and, to their relief , I decided to stop playing sport. I hated feeling unfit and unhealthy and missed the social aspect, yet whenever I asked to play sport, take up music, whatever I was discouraged 'oh, you are starting that too late, everyone will be better than you and will laugh at you' 'you won't get out of bed' 'grow up, only babies want to do x' 'you won't ever achieve anything doing that'. You get the drift.
I know what not to do with my kids! I have two and they already are involved in toddler/preschool activities. Seeing the joy they get out of attending makes the money and hassle of getting ready worth it.