As my time at Mount Pisgah comes to a close, I can’t help but reflect on the things I’ve learned from my experience here. Becoming the Editor-in-Chief of the Liberty Bell and founding the podcast Beyond the Bell this year are both ways I’ve had the opportunity to explore and learn more about the moments and lessons students carry with them as they go through life. And with this platform, I get the chance to share the biggest lesson I’m taking with me as I say goodbye to this chapter in my life: it’s okay to let go. So, as you read this, I hope you can take what I’ve learned and carry it with you.
Letting go is one of the hardest things to do in life. It’s natural to want to cling to the things we know, the places we feel most comfortable, and stay in the familiar. Change is terrifying, and it brings unknown circumstances beyond our control.
Inching closer and closer to graduation, I feel the inevitability of the change ahead. Soon, I’m going to be moving away from home, meeting new people, taking new classes and living in an entirely new environment. It’s daunting, and it’s scary, but it’s also something I’m excited for. And although Mount Pisgah—the place, the people, the time—will always be with me and a major part of who I am, I know letting go of this chapter of my life is necessary to welcome the good things to come.
Being able to let go is a lesson I found myself confronted with this past year, specifically, through my favorite sport: volleyball.
Volleyball has been part of my life since sixth grade. Freshman year, I fell in love with the sport so much that I joined a club team, filling up my entire schedule with volleyball. I even started the college recruiting process because I wanted to play volleyball forever. In spending all of my physical time playing, volleyball took over my mind. I was constantly thinking about the sport. When I had practice, what my schedule was, how to improve—there was never a moment when I wasn’t thinking about something related to the sport.
I thought about volleyball so much that it became who I was. During junior year club season, I gradually realized that I had no identity outside of volleyball; because I was constantly thinking about it, it began to define how I viewed myself. With the roller coaster of emotions and many confusing moments that junior club season and senior school season brought, my lack of a sense of self began to burn me out. The sport felt so heavy, and there was no room for me to breathe, let alone figure out who I was as a person. With volleyball taking up all of my time and mental space, I couldn’t be the person and teammate I needed to be in any capacity.
So, I forced myself to let go.
Stepping away from volleyball was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I felt immense grief as I said goodbye to my favorite sport, accompanied by second-guessing, overthinking and sadness. With my identity wrapped up in the sport, I didn’t know who I was as an individual, and it was terrifying to step away without a solid sense of self to back me up.
Through the difficulty, letting go allowed me to experience and learn more than I ever had. It allowed me to uncover the simple things I love that I was blocked from discovering because of being so consumed by volleyball. I found ways to carry the values and skills from volleyball over into my personal life, allowing myself to become a better, more confident version of myself.
As I prepare to let go of my time as a Mount Pisgah student, I’m experiencing similar feelings to when I knew it was time to let go of volleyball: anxiety, second-guessing and grief. Yet this time, they’re accompanied by confidence that more incredible things are coming. It’s daunting and scary to let go of the school I’ve been at for 15 years, but I know letting go can and will bring so many wonderful things. In that, I know it’s okay for me to let go.
To those reading who are faced with the challenge of letting go, I hope this helps you realize that everything will work out in the end. And for others who don’t know when that change will come, know that even when it’s hard, stressful, or scary, it’s okay to let go.
