My Kid Has the Confidence of the Gods

My son texted one day last spring to tell me he was going to join the lacrosse team. This was a surprise given the fact that Craigs historically do not lacrosse. We football, we wrestle, we’ve even been known to baseball and karate things, but lacrosse? Not so much.

Having spent the last 20 years in Annapolis, lacrosse was not a sport I would approach lightly. Ignoring my fear of disappointment, my son, carrying the self-confidence that can only come from a home full of participation trophies and love, attended his first varsity lacrosse practice and joined the team. Yes, varsity, because we live in Delaware now. Three weeks into the season, with no experience, having never picked up a lacrosse stick outside of a single six-week Scoopers clinic, off to the races he went with an unwavering certainty he would fit right in.

But would I?

In the two years since moving to the foreign lands of rural Delaware, I have been pushed out of my comfort zone. My son was joining a new team, and so was I. It has been one thing to support my children from level playing fields (I love a good pun), but being the new mom in a new sport, with new parents, with this Queens accent, it’s been…a lot.

As a veteran sports mom, it’s been a while since I had to discern which bleacher was ours, who was in charge of the travel schedule, or when is the appropriate time to cheer. Sports fields have been a safe space for my children for as long as many of them have been alive and where I was sure of myself and my place among my peers. An unfamiliar sport, new faces in the crowd, and a coach I had never met was not how I pictured my second Delaware Spring. And where the hell do I go for that net-stick thing? Can I order that from Amazon?

It made me think, where does that kid-level self-confidence come from? Is it youth, a lack of common sense, or the lucky draw of superior DNA coding that allows my children to walk through life with so much grit and self-assurance? Is it something we all have and then sometimes lose? Was there a moment when I traded “easy peasy” for my new personality trait of anxious lemon overthinking?

And why is it so difficult for us to make friends as adults? I do not know the exact moment when I became hyper-aware of my societal optics, but walking into the crowd for the first game and searching for a seat felt close to that moment of being sized up like the new kid in school. The metal bleachers amplified each step; my desperation for an easy seat and a break in the crowd combined to make me stand out in my basic sweater and not team swag. Such a rookie move; I know better.

This experience is not limited to lacrosse, sports, or parenting. As humans, we are prone to placing too much value on how we appear to our peers. The pressure can cause us to overthink our actions, limit our personalities, and present a diluted version of ourselves. Is it that we no longer reflect ourselves and are now a reflection of our families, children in tow? If they hate me, will they hate my kid?

As I stand on the sidelines, trying to look busy and not lonely during downtimes, wholly committed to faking it ’til I make it, I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. Life has a way of throwing curveballs, or in this case, lacrosse balls, reminding us we’re never too old to step into the unknown. I navigate a delicate dance of new friendships, unfamiliar sports equipment, and the haunting question of whether I’ll ever truly blend in with the other team parents.

Watching the game unfold reminds me that confidence doesn’t always stem from years of experience or expert knowledge. Sometimes, it’s about embracing the uncertainty, shrugging off the fear of standing out and believing in the power of an effective, albeit generic, cheer. Who knew that “OK!” could be delivered with such conviction?

Life in this place might have thrown me into unfamiliarity, but it’s taught me that growth often happens when we step outside our comfort zones. I’ve realized that making friends as adults is a lot like joining a new sports team – it takes time, effort, and the willingness to cheer each other on, even if we’re not entirely sure what we’re cheering for.

This is for the parents who are boldly embracing their awkward rookie status in the stands, to the moms and dads who are navigating the unfamiliar terrain of lacrosse nets and field dimensions, and to all of us who are learning that it’s OK to stand out in a crowd and cheer for our loved ones with all the enthusiasm we can muster. If anyone needs a crash course in enthusiastic sideline cheering, I’m happy to share my playbook of go-to phrases sure to embarrass even the most seasoned teenager. After all, I might not be a lacrosse expert, but I am an expert at showing up as myself in the stands and the unpredictable game of life.

By Patrice Craig