Growth feels like loss before it feels like progress. by Maya

Growth feels like loss before it feels like progress. by Maya - July 2025 Scholarship Essay

Everyone has experienced setbacks at some point in their life–whether that was due to school, sports, or something else entirely. For me, it was because of basketball.
Ever since Kindergarten, my goal was to make the girls high school varsity team as a freshman. And after sacrificing my sleep, social life, and sanity to prepare myself, I was ready. Ready to prove to everyone who doubted me that I could play at a high level. Little did I know that the coaches had already made their decision before tryouts even began. Although the factors that played into that decision were out of my control–politics, power, and discrimination–I had never felt more defeated than when I found out that I would be a swing player. My confidence faltered and I was never the same.
Throughout my freshman season, I battled hard and never wasted any opportunity to prove myself. Even though the coaches didn't seem to care, I did. I cared very deeply–not just about making the varsity team, but about rediscovering my love for the game, even in the face of adversity.
My sophomore season, things got a little bit better. I was on the varsity team, for one thing. Although I didn't have a starting position quite yet, I felt confident that by the time my junior year came around, I would earn one. Unfortunately for me, there was no way to anticipate what happened next.
As it turns out, my knees are genetically predisposed to instability and subluxations, neither of which are a good sign. At the start of my junior year, all of the stress and overuse in my knees finally revealed itself in the form of grueling pain every time I played. Worse than that, I felt extremely unstable, like my knees could subluxate at any given moment. I needed to take a break, whether I wanted to or not.
The initial diagnosis told me that I would only need to take six to eight weeks off to recover. Fortunately, that was much less time than I expected–under two months. Unfortunately, high school tryouts were right around the corner, and I had no idea if I would heal in time. I decided right then and there that I would prioritize my knees’ health above all else until I could finally play again.
Over the course of my many physical therapy sessions, I relentlessly searched for signs of physical growth—some way to prove that all the work I had been putting in was actually helping. However, I found no such signs. The weeks stretched into months, and before I knew it, my junior season was out of reach. I had no choice but to cheer my team on from the sidelines, wanting nothing more than to finally step foot on the court.
Being so detached from the team meant that I was missing the meaningful connections that everyone else was building with each other. Rather than my teammates being genuinely excited to see me like they were with each other, I was subject to polite smiles and nods. No one knew how to interact with an injured spectator. I felt like an impostor–not truly part of the team, but not a complete outsider either. It seemed like there was only one solution: I would have to find another place to build connections.
Branching out, I began more fully immersing myself in various clubs and extracurricular activities. Through those organizations, I met many new friends and created meaningful relationships. I also discovered that I had a wide range of interests outside of basketball, including reading, math, community service, and business leadership.
Before getting hurt, it always seemed like basketball was a central part of my identity. But in the process of feeling defeated, isolated, and finally hopeful again, I learned something exceedingly valuable. Basketball was not a part of my identity like I previously thought it was. Rather, it was something that I loved and would eventually have to lose. Coming to terms with that fact made me view the idea of “progress” differently. Even if I did not progress in the physical sense of the word, I still progressed as a person by not giving up. Better yet, I progressed by learning more about my other interests and desires, making me a fuller, more well-rounded person.
Therefore, if I had to give my past self one piece of advice, it would be this: growth feels like loss before it feels like progress.