I know I said when I launched this blog that I would only share one post each week to protect your inboxes. I’m breaking that rule today, just once, for my daughter. Forgive me. This is more than me sharing a proud dad moment… There’s a simple but powerful lesson woven in this story.

As I’m writing this, I am in a folding camp chair on the side of a lacrosse field in Chaska, Minnesota. Like parents all over the country right now, on this beautiful spring evening, I am playing the role of spectator as my teen daughter participates in spring athletics. This ritual will be repeated through the summer, and over and over for the coming years. I will take one of our twins to lacrosse or some other sport, and the other will go to another theatre rehearsal.

Tonight is special though…

Tonight, my daughter is at her first real lacrosse practice. She’s never played before this season. In the past, we’ve tried basketball and gymnastics, and given hockey a shot for a brief moment. That was grade school.

What makes tonight special is that she’s now a middle schooler. My girl is in that phase of life where being accepted means everything and being judged is a daily reality. With that in mind, the concept of trying something new for the first time should not be on her radar. She should be playing it safe, sticking to what she knows, and coasting.

I can see in her eyes that she wants to do that. Quitting now would be easy. Anxiety slides in, and that voice in her head is telling her she’s not good enough. It’s scary to step foot onto a lacrosse field with other girls who have been playing for years. Their hand-eye coordination is more developed, their stick handling is more practiced, and their lacrosse knowledge is deeper. My girl is out of her league…

…and I couldn’t be prouder.

She’s not the best athlete out here tonight, but she’s my daughter, and I know how far she has stretched out of her comfort zone to be here right now. There’s not one part of my being that cares if she’s good or not. I’m most excited that she’s taking the risk to give this a shot. That’s what has me most impressed.

A gym teacher in school nudged her to try this. He convinced her of the potential she’s been holding in and helped make this moment a reality. I remember how proud she was when she came home and told me that he had said she needed to try this or soccer. One or the other. In that moment, her confidence had begun to rise – because someone saw something in her and helped her to see it as well.

We bought all the stuff – her stick, goggles, mouthguard, and cleats. Each night, we gear up in the backyard and play catch and run drills, her with her stick and me with my baseball mitt. She’s learning to throw more accurate and hard, and I can see her catching more and more adeptly. Each night, she’s getting a little better.

Tonight as she’s warming up and playing catch with the other girls, she hasn’t found her full-on swagger yet, but she will. Watching her out here tonight, I can see her potential. She’s a pretty solid athlete, and her skills will develop over time. She pushes herself and has a healthy competitive streak deep inside. She knows how to hustle and grind. My girl’s going to do just fine.

Right now, I am beaming.

She may decide she loves lacrosse, or she may not. I don’t really care either way, as long as she’s happy. She may discover athletics isn’t what fills her up. She also loves robotics, reading, and learning. She’s a wicked smart young lady. All I want, as her dad, is for her to find the things in life that bring her joy. Her twin brother found that at a young age. He’s a talented young actor who gets filled up every time he takes the stage. It’s his “thing.” I’m excited for her to find hers.

The fact that she’s out here tonight, taking the risk and trying something new, is the first step on that journey. As I’m sitting here watching, one of the things I’m realizing is that this isn’t just for kids in middle school. You may be reading this right now, on the verge of trying something new yourself. Maybe you’re thirty, or forty, or fifty. Maybe you’re afraid to step outside your comfort zone. Maybe you’ve been listening to that voice in your head that says you’re not enough.

It’s time to step up, step out, and step forward. What are you waiting for, a permission slip? A shove? That feeling you’re going to have at eighty in your rocking chair wondering, “what if?” If my thirteen-year-old middle school daughter can cut through the judgment and fear to try this, so can you.

The Takeaway

Take your risk. The end.