Author's Note: This is a response to "The Coach That Killed My Passion" and an open letter to my former coach.

To my high school softball coach,

I want to start by saying thank you.

Thank you for making my junior and senior year softball seasons two of the most difficult sports seasons I have ever endured. Physically, emotionally, and mentally you made me stronger without even knowing it. I am 100% sure that I can battle any obstacle in my way thanks to you.

I also want to thank you for having me on the team. I got to spend two years with an amazing group of ladies who I will have memories with forever (like the Olympics). We did not always get along and some friendships did not last, but I would not want to take back all the fun times I had.

Yet, I never imagined that as an upperclassman I would go through so much emotional turmoil because of my favorite sport. I was sure that these two years would be the best in my high school softball career. I wanted to help bring us the playoffs and maybe even States if we worked hard enough at it. I was fired up and ready to go the minute I learned that I had made the Varsity team. I never thought that I would dread putting on that uniform.

Despite being on Varsity, most of my time was waiting until game day to find out that I would be catching JV. The positive of this was being able to play and dominating the competition, instead of sitting the bench when you decided to keep me up on Varsity to be a bullpen catcher. It didn’t seem to matter to you that I was doing so well, no matter how many times you preached that those who did well on JV would “get their opportunity” on Varsity.

Senior year was not much of an improvement to the previous year. You could no longer push me to JV, but this meant I got even less playing time. I rode the bench once again, and halfway through the season I asked why I was sitting all the time. I was committed to play softball in college, yet I felt that I was wasting my time by not being able to help my team win, which we did not do very often.

You said “I don’t know”

I tried so many times to figure out what you were thinking, asking what I could do better to start and you could never give me a clear answer, because you didn’t know why you were sitting me all the time. Even as a senior, I never truly got my “opportunity” like you had talked about so many times. The few times I did play and catch – a total of five games out of a twenty-two-game season – you yelled at me for every little thing that I did. Nothing I did was right to you.

I wanted to quit more than anything. I was tired of coming home from practice or a game in tears, wondering if I was good enough to play in college when I wasn’t even good enough play high school. I didn’t know what else to do to try and prove myself to you, when honestly, I don’t think anything I could have done would have worked. But I knew quitting would have made it even easier for you, so I continued to push through the season until our very last game - until it was finally over.

I wish so badly that I had enjoyed my high school softball experience more. You embarrassed me and refused to be honest with me, or even talk to me. You made me hate coming to softball practice for the first time. You made me jealous of my sister and close friends who were having so much fun and I could not feel the same way. You almost made me start hating the game I love.

And yes, I said almost. Because I wouldn’t let you destroy my love for the game.

Through all the tears, anger, and doubt I felt, my club coaches and parents constantly reminded me that I was good enough. I had a number of coaches throughout my years of playing travel softball and all of them had a similar love for the game. They made me excited to learn and get better, and I could never thank them more for that.

After every game, I reminded myself why I put up with the madness: I love this game more than anyone else does. Putting in the hard work at practice, cheering loud and proud at games, winning close and come-from-behind games, pre-game warmups and rituals, I loved all of it. I knew in my heart that I was good enough to be playing club softball, that I was good enough to be committed to a competitive Division III program. I was enough.

So again, I want to thank you.

Thank you for making me want to work harder so I never feel that way ever again. Thank you for making me a mentally stronger player without meaning to. Thank you for showing me that no obstacle is too big.

Good luck this season