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It was COVID. But it wasn't anymore; we were in school again, physically. I was so excited. And then I wasn't. I knew in my family the first one was at a young age, and yet nothing prepared me for my first period.

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I loved horses when I was younger. I had started my horseback lessons the previous June, and it was the highlight of my week. In February, my barn was hosting a dressage show for all age groups, and I got to perform in it. I was on my favorite horse, Tic Tac, and I had memorized my routine by heart. The time I was on the back of my horse, I had an overwhelming sense of peace and joy, and for a 5th grader at the time, it was the highlight of my life. I wasn't expecting any placement in my division, I wasn't that good after all. But I ended up with my first (but not last) blue ribbon.

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I loved volleyball. It had become the biggest thing in my identity. I loved it, I wanted to play it, it was made for me, and I was made for it. I was starting later than most of the other girls my age, and I didn't know anyone at all. But I was ok, as long as I made a team. I faced trials in my first year. My teammates groned when I was subbed in, my coaches were harsh, no one was inclusive outside of volleyball, and I cried after every practice. But it didn't matter. I kept working. I didnt know at the time how much volleyball would mean to me, and I don't know now. My love for the game will keep growing, and so will I.

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7th grade was the best year of my life. It was not the same for my best friend Madelynn. She was a distance runner untill she tore her hip muscle and was on crutches for 8 1/2 months. She got bullied for it. A lot. She would be told that she was faking it. It was hard for her, and as her friend, I got bullied for it too. Being "associated with a crip" was apparently a crime and was ok. I tried to protect her but she grew distant.

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Over the summer, I went to Europe. Our second stop in Paris fell on the summer solstice; our tour guide told us that Paris was very famous for the solstice because they also celebrated music on that day. In the evening, after seeing the lurve museum, we were walking to dinner and got caught in a rave.

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I was standing on the shore of the Mediterranean Sea for the first time. A group of us had just left the hotel to go see it. In that moment, I thought how strange it was to have my feet in the ocean, but it was a different one. I was so far from home, but I had also never felt closer.

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This was the moment I had been waiting for. My first high school tryout. I had done everything right; my forms were filled out, I knew the coaches. I think they liked me. Walking into the gym at 6:30 on the first day, I saw my new family, and I knew. It's gonna be a good year.

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I was so excited for high school. It was a fresh start. I got to be someone new. I didn't have to be the nerd or the quiet one. I was determined to use my fresh start and become someone unrecognisable.

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In my first high school volleyball tournament, I sprained my ankle. It was halfway through the first set, against the sunset, when I went up to block the ball, and my opponent kicked my ankle, causing it to give out. I fell to the floor, but the pain didn't register until after I was at home. I had played on a sprained ankle for two more games and didn't know it. At the trainer's office the following afternoon, our school's physical trainer, Ashlee, told me that I was out for two weeks.