Reslience

“/rəˈzilyəns”

noun

1. the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness.

Resilience is my best friend. Who moved half-way across the world to attend school in a country where she didn’t speak the language. Who completed two degrees. Who fell in love with a man oceans away, and never gave up on her heart when life took them apart. 

Resilience is my brother. Who made it through four major hip surgeries without complaining once. Who despite his pain busts his ass as a mechanic, only to come home and fix up his own car after hours. Who taught himself very young how to fix cars, and how to be an independent young man. 

Resilience is my sister. Who realized the path she was on was not the one for her. Who had the courage to quit nursing school and trust her instincts to pursue makeup artistry. Who has worked three jobs so that she could follow her passions. And who is true to herself in every form amongst an industry where people can be cruel, cutthroat and fake.

Resilience is my boyfriend. Who was able to step away from the game he loved with poise, and confidence. Who moved down to the sunshine state for an intensive MBA program on his own. Who works his ass off in school and still makes time for me. Who can change his perspective, and move forward from every difficult situation. He’s also resilient because he loves me and that’s a difficult task in itself.

Resilience is my father. Who experienced many hardships. Who has battled his own demons, yet approaches every day with a smile on his face, and music in his heart. Who takes shit from nobody, and gets things done. 

Resilience is my other father. Who pushed me into the gym when I was recovering from my first surgery. Who continues to take courses and expand his knowledge base when he doesn’t need to. Who always takes time to reflect and move forward from all situations, both good and bad.

Resilience is my mother. Who raised 3 children. Let me repeat, she raised 3 children on her own. Who went back to school with 3 babies so she could support our dreams, and goals. Who on her sickest days in the hospital is thinking of how she can help everybody else. Who is selfless beyond measure, making the lives of those around her the best that they can be.

I’ve been surrounded by greatness my entire life in many different forms. By people who literally would pick me up when I fell. Who were there for me in my greatest moments of triumph and in my deepest despair. People who showed me how to be true to oneself, and have confidence in who you are and what you stand for. They taught me the importance of goals, to dream big, and that I could accomplish anything I set my mind to.

Yesterday, I found out that my knee injury was more serious than anyone anticipated. I tore my ACL, and will be needing to undergo surgery and another long rehab to get back on the court.

I’m not asking for your pity for my situation. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me (but I will accept chocolate or cookies). I’m simply asking for your support. To provide encouragement on the days that I feel like giving up. To remind me why I started when I feel like walking away. To push me that extra mile when I feel like quitting.

And to laugh with me if I begin to cry. 

This one is for all of you out there who know struggle. Who know injury. Who know despair. Who know darkness. And for all of you who are reminders of strength, courage and resilience.

As cliche as it is, I believe that everything happens for a reason. I believe that my story isn’t over yet, I’m going to walk away from this game on my own terms. And trust me when I say that my comeback story is going to be the greatest of all. 

If you don’t believe me, just watch.