Nothing Without You

Hello Humans! I mentioned my "dark days" in a post earlier this week, and thought it was about time I posted my story of my lonely and hard Senior Year filled with sorrow, tears, and teenage angst, but also a great change in me. And now, I look back on my lovely High School experience, and realize that they both strengthened my testimony, and really made me who I am today. But also, a lot of tears were shed writing this, because of what a toll the events had on my psyche, and also because of how grateful I am that I got to go through these hard times. The hardest of times really do make the strongest of people.

"I've got shackles round my feet, they tie me to this place. They won't loosen up for love or money, or anything that's in-between. They're telling me I'm not allowed to leave. You kept telling me that I should pack up just in case, cause you thought that I had better things in store. I couldn't do as I was told, so I told you I didn't love you anymore. But somehow you saw through it all. And you took out all the dark thoughts that I think. Now you don't return any of my calls, so I guess your heart was a one time thing. I wish I could take my time, and show you that I'll be fine, cause I would be nothing without you. Nothing without you. A couple hours into this long 13 hour drive, it's just me with the lights off and I think, I should have done better by you. Now I can feel the shackles burn their way into my skin when I turn around and try to run away from all the dark thoughts, cause now I have nothing to prove and no one to lose. And next time, I'll do better, cause if I make the same mistakes again. I wish I could take my time and show you that I'll be fine, cause I would be nothing without you. Nothing without you. If I had the chance to say, 'I'm sorry for how things changed,' Cause I would be nothing without you. Nothing without you. And you shaped me into who I wanted to be, and you made me take a look at myself and see. I wish I could take my time and show you that I'll be fine; just think about how happy you could be. If I had the chance to say, 'I'm sorry for how I changed,' cause I would be nothing without you. Nothing without you." -Emma Blackery, "Nothing Without You"

My Senior Year really started out during May of my Junior Year, when we met up as a team for High School Soccer the following fall. I was so excited to finally be a Senior on the High School team. It meant starting varsity, getting a lot of playing time, being team captain, and well respected and loved amount the girls, and also my other fellow classmates. I worked really hard during the summer, practicing with my best friends on my club soccer team. My club soccer team was really close, and we were all best friends. I loved to practice with them, every moment was filled with joy, laughter, and soccer. And, to make things better, my coach happened to be a retired Professional Soccer Player from England, PLUS, he was Left-Footed, and played Left-Defender, just like me. July hit, and that meant I had to start getting up at 6:00am to get to conditioning on time, which was at 6:30am. I got to drive carpool with some girls in my ward, and one of my sisters friends. I also got to go with my sister, which really helped us grow closer as friends and sisters. Then came the end of July, and it quickly was the first week of August, when try-outs were. I knew that I would just walk-on the team, because I had been on the team for 2 years previously, and had worked really hard every day, even when on vacation, to keep my soccer skills and conditioning up, and I tried to show the coaches my leadership skills. I still worked really hard at try-outs, easily beating a lot of the girls in many of the fitness challenges, and also showcasing my favorite practice drill, one-on-ones, and two-on-twos. I made sure to communicate, cover when needed, and showed my foot skills, which I had been fortunate enough to learn from Rob Karas, the man who trained Kyle Beckman himself. I even had improved my shots so much, that one of the coaches told me that I should play wing-midfielder. Good news, after two long days of 2-a-day try-outs, I made the team. Even better, my sister made the team too. Two more long weeks of practice lead us up to our first few games, against Bountiful, Woods Cross, and Jordan High Schools. Opening game against Bountiful, I literally killed it, and I was playing on the wrong side of the field: the right side. The next game, against Woods Cross, was definitely not my best, but it was also not even close to my worst. Jordan is where it all fell apart. They were not very good at all, and so I kinda just stood there, watching the forwards and mid-fielders passing the ball around, and running up the field when needed. But, I didn't start the second half. For the purpose of privacy, we'll call her the Tool (this is really funny if you know her actual name XD. I'm so clever), the sophomore, whom I found extremely annoying because she bragged about all of her "accomplishments" all the time, and acted like she was entitled. Turns out she was. Opening game of the season, head coach comes up to me and tells me that they're starting the Tool, because she's "a little bit faster than you, and a little bit better at 1-v-1s than you." But I knew all of this was wrong because I beat her in all of the fitness challenges at tryouts, by a LOT, and I beat her multiple times at 1-v-1's. I was heartbroken, and almost cried, but then thought to myself, "It must be my effort at practice." So I went home, kicked a lot of balls in my backyard, and the next day at practice worked harder than I'd ever worked before. And again the next day, and the next day, and the next day, until the next day. And yet again, the Tool started, and played the entire time. I didn't get a single minute. I kept working harder and harder at practice, cheering the team on at games, but after a couple of weeks, I was fed up. The athletic trainer and team conditioner, we'll call him, The Hero for privacy, noticed that I wasn't my normal happy, cheerful self, and asked me after practice if I was doing ok. I said yeah, and faked a smile as it started to rain. After practice that day, I let the head coach know that I could also play wing-midfielder, because I had played it before and was rather good at it, and my left-foot could cross the ball into the goal box extremely accurately. He said, "Ok," and walked away. I almost cried on the way home, as it was just me and my sister, because the rest of my carpool had left us to ride with the more popular Juniors on the team. I got home, and later that night texted The Hero, telling him what was wrong. I hadn't been made team captain, my best friend didn't even try out and I wasn't fitting in well with the other Seniors and Juniors, and I, of course, wasn't playing at all. He told me that we would talk before the next game. We sat down and talked it out before the game even started, and I was in tears by the time we were done talking. I've actually never really cried in public before, so this was quite a big step for me. He told me that I needed to toughen up and stop having a pity party. He told me that since I didn't fit in well with the girls, to at least try harder. He told me the reason for why I hadn't been made team captain, which was because the coaches had a bigger vote in the matter than the girls on the team who actually voted for us. He told me why I wasn't playing, which was a long story that involved them originally not putting me on the team, and how a couple of them convinced the others to put me on, and how I had totally surprised them in conditioning, practice, and in the first couple of games, and how I wasn't really going to play. He also told me to try playing different positions, and how he didn't play a lot on his High School Football team, because of some of the same reasons I wasn't playing.

Well, I call him The Hero, because he helped get me through it all. He was the only one out of all 5 coaches who told me the truth. The others were too scared, probably because they knew how hard I could kick them. He kept asking me how I was during the soccer season. And now, I knew that my playing time wasn't going to change very quickly. I figured it out: if we were dominating the other team, and had scored more than 3 goals, then I might get put in... for maybe 10 minutes. The other girls kept encouraging me, but I didn't want that. I wanted it bluntly. I would rather be stabbed through the heart right away, than having the knife dangle above me, hoping that it won't drop. So, I focused on serving the team. There isn't a ton that you can do to serve people on a soccer team, especially when you aren't super close to any of them. So, I became "Watergirl Winchester," and made sure that the team always had water. I also always helped put the goals away after practice, even though Seniors weren't supposed to help. I made sure that I paid attention and cheered on the JV team, even though I had a lot of homework to complete. Instead of doing 1-v-1s before the Varsity and JV games, I shagged balls for the girls. I helped the young girls set up our team canopy, and I helped girls feel more confident, when they got to experience their first Varsity minutes. I made sure to say hi to girls in the hallways, and made sure they all had a ride home at the end of the day. Things were going really well, and my attitude had, well, kind of improved. I was at least not looking on it with hatred. Although, most nights I cried to my parents that I should just quit, and about why the even put me on the team in the first place, if they knew I wouldn't be playing. Then came the game against Davis. One of our Defenders was injured, so I got really excited, thinking I would be next in line to fill that spot. Well, instead of just substituting me into the Tool's spot, on my dominate left-side of the field, they moved our center-midfieler to the left-defender, and then put a freshman in at center-midfielder. Talk about trying to avoid me playing. And, to make matters worse, One of the only other two seniors had the same first name of me. So partway through the second half, I hear my name called, and the Freshman and Sophomores started cheering for me, as they always did when I finally got to go in. I got to the head coach's chair, and said, "You called my name." He looked at me, and without even thinking, said, "Oh, wrong Mary." My face immediately dropped, and I ran back to my spot at the very end of the bench, to the grass, where I put my head in my hands and started to sob silently. It wouldn't have been a big deal, except the most people we had had at any game that season was at this particular game, because it was against our biggest rival: Davis. Well, in the end, we lost. I don't even remember how we lost, just that we did. It was the only game when I didn't help clean up. I immediately ran to my mom, and let all my tears that I had been trying to hold in out. She quickly led me out of there, and took me to Dinner. It was a delicious dinner, filled with many tears. The rest of the season was awful. After that game, I pretty much gave up. Although, I do have to say, during the 10 minutes of paling time I was allowed to have, against this really awful team, I had the most beautiful cross into the goal box, where one of my favorite Freshman oh-so-beautifully volleyed it into the back of the net. But still, even after the head coach praising me, no playing time. We sadly, made it into the State-Tournament, which meant at the most 5 more games, and 3 more weeks. The first game we played, we totally should have won. But my prayer was answered that night. We played awful. Like some of the worst soccer I've ever seen in my life. We went to shoot-outs against a team that we should have easily beat 5-0, and even though we had been practicing shoot-outs ever since the second week in, we missed 3 of them. I know, because I was counting. Oh, I was counting even so carefully, and doing the math that I knew how to do very well. They had the last PK of the set, and their girl walked up, placed the girl down, and I was praying harder than I had ever prayed before for the ball to go into the net. That's right, I was praying that we would lose. And she kicked the ball, and our goalie didn't even move. The ball soared into the back of the net. Their girls were jumping and screaming and celebrating together, while our girls were on the ground, sobbing. Except me. I was so happy, I didn't even know what to do, so I did what I had done all year. I ran and got the water bottles, and brought them to the girls sobbing on the ground. Well, I at least set them on the ground next to them. And then I ran to my mom, tears in my eyes. I got to her and hugged her, and was shouting, "It's over! It's finally over!" And my mom asked me, "Then why are you crying?" And I replied, again in a very loud voice, "Because I'm so happy!"

A few blessings that came during this time: My friends, who were still actually friends with me at this point, came to some of the games, even though I didn't even play. I had a class, called "Humanities I" which was the history of Popular Music. And, the teacher, love the Beatles. We became such good friends, that we traded Beatles Videos on occasion. Some lessons learned: Serving others makes the bad times, at least, bearable. Honesty is the best policy. You can make a big impact on others, even though you aren't the star of the show. I think my quote, which Seniors got to write at the end of their season, on the white wall of the soccer Shed summed it up properly: "Playing time isn't what matters. Character is." The other week, one of the dad's of one of the girls on the team, and this is a dad that knows how hard this season was for me, had the nerve to ask me to make them a "good luck" video for their state tournament this year. I made it, not to really wish them good luck, but to show that head coach and the Tool how great I had become, despite the really hard 3 months they put me through.

Moving on through the year, it didn't really improve, and then second semester hit. My friend group started to dissolve, because boys were preparing to leave on missions, and friends were hanging out with others that were attending the same University as them. My best friend got herself a boyfriend, and that left just me. My classes became boring, because my brain really started to grow by looking at more complex things at this time. My safe work place, where I could vent to my favorite manager and friends about anyone and anything, because they didn't care and would do the same to me, became a battle ground, as one of the Juniors who separated our friend group decided to work at Tonyburgers. Luckily, no one there really like her, because I had told them all stories of how I didn't like her, and how she was a teacher's pet and a suck-up. So they saw through her, like I did. I got lonelier and lonelier, and by March, it was just me and my music. My safe spot was in my Ceramic class, because I could listen to my music to work on my projects, my teacher liked me, and I could work during lunches and after school, the two most lonely parts of my day. To get more people to like me, I tried to change my appearance, doing my hair and make-up differently, and to almost an extreme, dressing differently, and even starving myself for almost 2 months to lose weight. My social experiment failed. No one liked me anymore. This sunk me down into my hole of loneliness even more. Something was looking up, though. In October, of the next year, there was to be a music festival, featuring my favorite artists and bands from the 60s and it was supposed to be a Woodstock-mock concert. I told my mom, and she said we might be able to go for it, if it was part of my birthday, and my senior trip, just pushed back a few months. Well, the day the tickets went on sale, and I checked online, and low and behold, they were all sold out, except from third-party sellers, which marked the prices up from $600 to $1500, a price I could never afford. I stopped hoping. I stopped having faith. I just existed. I didn't live, I was just there, someone in the background, with headphones plugged in. I made it a few weeks, by just staring at a wall in my bedroom, listening to my music. I would sometimes cry myself to sleep. One day, I had had enough. So, I grabbed a pair of scissors, and tried to cut my wrist. By some miracle, I had disobeyed my mom's wise words to not cut lots of paper with my nice scissors, because then it would make the blades dull. It didn't work. The blade was too dull. I dropped the scissors and fell to my knees, praying to my Heavenly Father to know if he was even there anymore. To know if he was watching out for me, or if he really knew me. I was just about to go get ready for bed, when my mom came in. Thank goodness for my amazing mother who listens ever so closely to the spirit. She told me that after our previous argument that night, she felt that she needed to get me to the Who concert. But there wasn't one in Utah. She looked them up, and found that there was one in San Diego. So, she went ahead and bought the tickets. She told me it would be my Senior trip with her. I started to cry, because even though this concert seems small, it got me out of three more lonely days at school, and to see my favorite band, live, and in person. She held me as I cried of both joy and sadness, and told me that she felt prompted to take care of Heavenly Father's daughter, and to make me feel special and loved, which was something that I so desperately needed at that point.

Just a few of the blessings I received were the blunted scissors, my ceramics class, a stronger testimony, and a love for life.

What I learned here, was that I really do have the best family that looks out for me through anything and everything, and that will love me no matter what I look like or what I do. I learned that my Heavenly Father really is real, and that he really loves me dearly. I also learned that sometimes you have to break yourself down into less than you thought you could handle, and then you'll be rebuilt even stronger. I learned a few months later, that happiness was my choice and that I am able to control my happiness, and that it's not dependent on anyone else. I learned that even in the most dark of circumstances, there is always a miracle. I also learned that I can trust my co-workers at Tonyburgers with my deepest secrets. I learned that food is good for you, and that even though I don't look like a supermodel, I still love my body, and feel very confident in it, and take pride in it. I also learned, through my club soccer team, that soccer is still the best sport, my favorite to play, and that I actually am one of the best left-footed defenders out there, despite the politics of my High School Soccer Team. I learned to knock down my walls that I put up between me and others. And I learned to just be myself, because it sure does feel a lot better than faking something I'm not.

So, sure, I'm weird. I'm a nerd. I'm very optimistic. I love life a lot. I'm very happy. I love myself. I'm happy with my body. I feel my best when I'm being myself. and, I like a lot of weird stuff, with a big passion. But hey, it's who I am. And being who I am makes me feel the happiest I've ever been, ever. And now, I know I'm worth more than the approval of someone else, because I have higher powers on my side.

Yes, my Senior Year was probably the hardest thing I've ever endured, but I learned too much to want it any other way. I would sure be "Nothing Without You," Senior Year. Stay wild, flower child.