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Last week, my 13-year-old daughter hit me with some stunning news: "Mom," she said. "I'm going to try out for the school basketball team."
"Really?" I said. "You are?"
I know, I know...that's not exactly a supportive maternal reaction, is it? But you have to understand. My daughter is just under five feet tall -- not exactly what you'd consider basketball player stature. And did I mention that she's never played basketball a day in her life?
"Yup," she said. "I'm going to do it."
"OK," I said as neutrally as I could. "Just do your best."
For three afternoons, she went to try-outs, taking part in grueling exercises with names like "suicides," while also trying to learn the fundamentals of the game. Each night, she'd come home exhausted and one evening, she sat on the couch and said, "Mom, my legs hurt so much."
It sort of broke my heart to see her putting so much effort into this. After all, more than 20 girls were trying out for the team, and many of them were returning players. And with height being such a big part of basketball, frankly I figured she just didn't have the body for it.
Last night, when I picked her up, I had my consolation speech ready: "I know you tried your best, but it was really a long shot since you've never played basketball before and the other girls have a height advantage."
I never got to deliver my speech.
She walked up and said, "I made it" -- delivered, I might add, in a tone that made me wonder why I'd ever doubted her in the first place.
She certainly never doubted herself. Or what her body could do.
And in that moment, I decided: I want to be like her.
