Necessary Lies

“Talk to yourself like you would talk to someone you love.”

– Brene Brown

If you haven’t picked up on it yet, I’m a big Brene Brown fan.

When I decided to tryout for the Spirit, I started seeing a Sports Psychologist. It had been seven years since I played, and in that time I had evolved in so many ways. The person I was the last time I played, was not the person who sat in his office. One of the fears I brought to him was, “could I still perform at a high level as this person?”

The process of training for the Spirit revealed a motivational evolution. What once drove me, no longer existed. My why had changed.

For most of my playing as I reached high levels, I was fueled by the negative in my life. The things that drove me were the things that wounded me. Soccer was an outlet – I took the thing I loved most and allowed it to be driven by the things that hurt me most. For a while I remember thinking – “do I even like soccer?” I couldn’t tell anymore because there was so much wrapped up in it. I was also on a quest for self worth, so there was a certain desperation to succeed. I crossed over from feeling like I wanted soccer to feeling like I needed soccer. That’s a dangerous place to be.

As I sat there,  I knew all of this was unhealthy. And I wasn’t willing to go back.

I had even committed myself and made it my personal mission to train young players to play from a place that was contrary to this. I aim to help them be the best versions of themselves in the most beneficial way to themselves. I have a holistic belief system to training that’s central to what I practice and preach when training others, but I wasn’t sure that I knew how to practice it with myself. Not really. Not upon entering a highly competitive environment with elite level athletes. I was afraid a switch would be triggered and I would return to old ideas and thought patterns.

I was worried.

I went to see my sports psychologist and I sat down and explained some of my fears.

First, I told him about my current state. “When I make mistakes, I speak to myself like I speak to the kids that I train – ‘get the next one’ instead of ‘that sucked, what’s wrong with you?'”

I was concerned that I wasn’t serious enough anymore (which is ridiculous in retrospect – I have been called “Ms. Intensity” by college professors, strangers at the gym, and friends – a name I’m still unsure as to whether I like). Regardless, my sense of humor reveals itself now sometimes when I make mistakes – certainly not all the time, but sometimes I laugh and say things like “well that was pretty.”

I’m still hard on myself – but sometimes it seems like I’m ok with errors and mistakes. The voice of abuse no longer exists. Did I need that? Later, I discovered that wasn’t even my voice anyway – it was learned.

Next, I talked to him about physical training. “Work ethic has never been an issue,” I said. “I’m not worried about my ability to physically prepare. But I am battling this fine line between what’s enough and what’s too much.” This has always been a battle. Over the years, I learned to stop. I skipped workouts when my body felt like it needed it. Now, when I get tired training, I push, but I don’t push to the point where I can hardly walk. I can say “that’s good for today.” There are plenty of days where I struggle finding that off switch. There are days where I think “that might have been just a tad too much.” But, overall there’s major progress.

Still, I had fears which questioned : have I gotten soft? Did I learn to start giving in?

I’ve really had to work on learning how to push my body, but reign it in before entering into self destructive, over training mode. This is an ongoing lesson, and again, this was a gift found through training others. My focus for players is to successfully complete an intense training session where results are achieved, but in a safe environment. When something is bothering them, we stay light and technical. Over training isn’t even an option, because their well being is the priority. Its counter productive, and my goal is always to serve them in the best way possible. This is certainly not achieved by driving their bodies into the ground.

So, as I sat across from this sports psychologist, who worked with Ravens and other professional athletes, I realized I was almost asking him to validate everything I had based my training company around. I was wrestling with the bridge between my experience as a youth player and my experience as an adult coach.

I was asking:

Is it ok that I’ve found my inspiration in gratitude, passion, joy and confidence?
If I’m honest, I’m afraid these things might make me average.
They might keep me from pushing to higher levels.
I guess I still have this old idea that the crazy made me good.

Is it ok that I want to play as someone who loves soccer? Who wants to give back to this thing that has always loved me and served me when I allowed it to?

             Can I play from my purest self, with my playing being an expression of creativity                and passion?

Is it ok that I’m no longer someone who needs soccer and asks for something from it?

Is it ok to come from a place of inspiration instead of desperation?

Can I be joyous, free, and still good?

In earlier years, If I was an artist, I would have adopted a tortured artist archetype, believing that my creativity and legitimacy was dependent upon my suffering.

Now I asked, is it possible that I found success in spite of this, not because of it?

I was no longer willing to have the same experience through this process with the Spirit. I wasn’t willing to go the places mentally that I once did.

This sports psychologist, looked at me with a smile and said “necessary lies.”

Hmm….Necessary lies.

The things we’ve believed – the things we chose to believe – the things we had to believe.

He asked me how that worked out for me.

“Well,” I said, “injuries, drinking and a general feeling of insanity.”

We laughed.

I think we all have necessary lies in our lives at various levels.

….They seem to be transferable skills too. …and not the good kind.

They play into work, life, relationships. They’re the things we think we need to hang on to for “success” or ambition.

In sports, they may be:

“I need to stay angry to be good.”

“Unhappiness, irritability, and dissatisfaction drive me.”

“Never be satisfied?”

“You’re not good enough. Fast enough. Skinny enough. Strong enough.”

“Win at any cost.”

“Insanity equals drive.”

Necessary lies are the falsehoods we’ve created for results – they’re usually negative, abusive, manipulative or demeaning – they’re usually rooted in fear.

They may work temporarily, but I don’t believe they work for the long haul.

My sports psychologist seemed pleased when I told him that I talk to myself like I talk to the players I train.

He asked me to keep the playing field fair. If I wouldn’t say it to a kid, don’t say it to myself. He still encouraged objective and honest critique, he just validated that I didn’t have to cross that line.

You hear professional athletes say things about the game being ninety percent mental and ten percent physical. Experience has proved this every time in my life.

Identifying and dismantling some of my necessary lies and playing fair allowed my experience to be positive. And you know what I learned – I can still perform in that arena. In fact, I can name a few very specific examples where I was able to perform well as a result of playing fair with myself. As athletes, we have to expel so much energy trying to perform – why waste any energy also fighting yourself? Perhaps one of the lessons through the process of my experience with the Spirit, was how to be my own champion. For that, I am grateful.