This afternoon, I was at a cafe in the suburbs.
Ok, so it probably isn’t considered “a cafe” and should actually be referred to as a “large coffee shop chain.”
[excuse me for trying to sound more European and mysterious in my storytelling].
Let me start again.
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This afternoon, I was at a large coffee shop chain in the suburbs…It’s a place I find myself ducking into each week before my regular Monday night plans. The staff doesn’t know me, and I don’t know them, as their schedules are always changing; and only a few times have I recognized a patron or two from my reoccurring visits.
You can always find me by the fireplace. It’s not usually very busy at this time in the afternoon so I’m able to choose my seat according to my current mood – AKA how comfortable my bum wants to be. However, today there were less seating options as others occupied my regular spots. So I had no choice but to take the only spot left: in the back corner and just two feet away from the fireplace. Prime pick if you ask me. I took off my coat and proceeded to the counter for my beverage.
It was in the seconds after taking off my coat that I came to the sudden realization that “Bethel Lacrosse” was written boldly across my back. Suddenly feeling very self aware of this fact, I wanted nothing else than to be sitting down, wrapped in the comfort of my coat and hidden from people’s looks. I exhaled and kept walking, grabbed my drink and proceeded back to my seat. Safe and sound in my chair, drink in hand, I wondered why I was so concerned with the other customers seeing these words on my zip up.
Let me tell you ::: I played lacrosse for the duration of my college years. Each season, we’d get new warm ups and sweats, which easily made up 65% of my weekly wardrobe. The title of “athlete” was a piece of my identity…I held on to it tightly…it was a part of me…and I stood proudly in it.
It’s where I met some of the most beautiful women. Strong women. Courageous and bold women. Not to mention, insanely talented women. They were my family and what kept my heart at Bethel. It was the team’s connectedness and willingness to love that got me up at 5am for practice and staying up til 1am for scrimmages. I was committed. I was ever-present. I was a lacrosse player.
And then tonight…
I found myself no longer wanting to be seen with these words – on a warm up who’s zipper has become tired & worn because of my excessive wears – I wanted out. I wanted it covered up. I wanted it off.
I wanted to be seen for who I am currently. Not for who I was. Although “lacrosse player” fits nicely in my belt of experience, I no longer am a “Bethel lacrosse player.” I wanted the coffee customer’s around me to know that about me – that I have grown into more than just these words that are so openly displayed on my back. Although it once did, the words of “Bethel Lacrosse” no longer apply to my current story; they are not my armor they do not fit me any longer.
I am more.
Growing up and growing out.
Or is it Growing up and Growing in.
Into the ground I stand upon today. Into the woman I am in this moment. Into the woman I will be next year. And the following year. And all the years to come. Growing into diana.
Growing up.
And growing into a more full version of me.
.house of colors. 