My daughter has explored various sports – from the basics like soccer and swimming to more unique options such as ice skating and karate. While she showed decent skills in each, none sparked her enthusiasm. Each new venture began with excitement, but soon, persuading her to attend practices became a struggle. I wrestled with the idea of letting her quit every time, questioning whether I should instill a sense of perseverance in her. Ultimately, I always gave in; it seemed pointless to pour time and resources into something she didn’t enjoy. After all, I had my own history of quitting. Throughout my childhood, I stepped away from dance, gymnastics, basketball, and softball. Like my daughter, I preferred academics and reading over sports, and I turned out alright.
However, I didn’t want my daughter to inherit my lack of appreciation for physical activity. To prevent this, I kept presenting her with new options, hoping to find one that would resonate. Then, about a year and a half ago, when she was 10, we stumbled upon tennis. Motivated by her newfound interest, I decided to join her in learning the sport.
She quickly advanced through recreational classes and was soon invited to participate in a high-performance program. I took private lessons myself and even made the doubles team as an alternate. We invested in a caddy filled with pink tennis balls, practicing serves together at our neighborhood court. Last summer, I took her to a local professional tournament, and the excitement in her eyes as she watched top female players was unforgettable.
As her skills improved, her coach often praised her rapid progress. I tried to encourage her to participate in local tournaments, but she declined every time. When it was time to register for our YMCA’s tennis team this spring, she reluctantly agreed but dreaded the practices and pleaded with me not to make her compete for a higher rank.
Her dad posed a question that lingered in my mind: did she truly enjoy tennis? Although she assured me she did, doubts began to creep in. When I asked if she wanted to play competitively, she muttered a hesitant “maybe,” while staring at the ground. Around this time, she began experiencing stomachaches before lessons.
I approached her about my concerns, suggesting we scale back on the high-performance program for the summer and limit her to one lesson a week. She agreed but expressed disappointment. The stomachaches persisted, always vanishing shortly after practice concluded.
I found myself conflicted. On one hand, the tennis lessons were costly and didn’t fit well with our schedule. On the other hand, I longed for her to excel at something. Her younger brother was thriving as a competitive gymnast, and I felt it was only fair for her to find her own sport to shine in. Plus, I enjoyed sharing this interest with her.
With the deadline for fall registration approaching, I brought it up once more. “Why do you want to continue with tennis?” I asked. She broke down in tears, finally confessing that she wanted to quit but felt guilty about the money I had spent. I attempted to explain the idea of sunk costs, that we shouldn’t continue investing in something she didn’t love simply because we had already spent so much on it. She kept crying, and as I handed her a tissue, I told her I was proud of her honesty.
That night, we made the decision to step back from tennis. I was both relieved and surprised that she was truly quitting. However, I framed it to her and her coach as a break. Perhaps she’ll return to tennis one day, but I’m perfectly fine with her not doing so. I’d rather her time and our financial resources go toward activities that genuinely excite her.
I still grapple with the balance between teaching persistence and recognizing when to let go. My own experiences have shown me that clinging to the idea of “sticking it out” can lead to unhealthy situations, and I don’t want that for my daughter. Yet, I also believe that perseverance is important. It’s a dilemma we all face. She’s not a quitter in every aspect of her life; she excels as a musician, diligently practices three instruments, manages her studies independently, and expresses her creativity through art. So, she may not be a tennis player, and that’s perfectly acceptable.
I’ve maintained my requirement for her to engage in some form of physical activity, and she has chosen to try fencing next. If anyone has an épée to trade for a tennis racquet, let me know!
Summary:
In a heartfelt reflection, Clara Johnson shares her experience of supporting her daughter’s decision to quit tennis, revealing a journey filled with exploration, struggle, and ultimately, pride. Despite initial hopes for her to excel in sports, Clara learns the importance of allowing her daughter to pursue what she truly enjoys, rather than forcing her to stick with something that causes anxiety. This poignant narrative highlights the balance between perseverance and recognizing when to let go, while celebrating the daughter’s various talents outside of tennis.