My recovery stories in the happiness of failing

When I was little, my parents signed me up for the school basketball team just because I was tall. They thought that being tall was a guarantee that I would be good at basketball. And that being on a team would cure my chronic loneliness. But it soon became clear that they were sorely mistaken.

I hated having to stay at practice after school instead of going home to my room and burying myself in my beloved books. Practices were rough and all the girls were enemies even though they were on the same team.

Everyone was competing for the coach's favor and I was always in the background, and I wasn't the fit and sporty type, so if I ran for two minutes I would get tired.

So why did I keep going? Why was I stressing myself out preparing for games I didn't care about? Why did I desperately want to play good basketball? Why was being a good basketball player a matter of life and death for me? The answer was simple, even though I couldn't quite figure it out at the time: I was just trying to be who my parents wanted me to be.

One day we were going to play an important game against an important school. My parents came and took their seats in the stands. The game started like a storm. I wasn't the brightest player on the team, so the coach didn't play me for the first three quarters. And it was a good thing. The girls from the other team were so toothy that my teeth were chattering where I was sitting. And these girls were hitting one spectacular three-pointer after another, scoring point after point while we were on the floor.

In the fourth quarter, when it was clear that we were going to lose to them by a big margin, the coach brought me out on the court to get some experience. The girls from the other team were throwing elbows and insults at us as we ran. While my teammates were getting frustrated and angry, I couldn't stop my eyes from welling up.

Such things were not for me. I was quiet, shy, introverted. I wanted to go home, make a cup of hot chocolate and get lost in a book. Treasure Island, for example. Yes, it would have been nice to read Treasure Island at that moment. But my parents were watching me and I had to make them proud, so I pretended I knew what I was doing when I was running around the field.

Then something incredible happened. In the last minutes of the game, all of a sudden, completely by coincidence, the ball came my way. I stood there for a while not knowing what to do with it, then I realized that my teammates were yelling at me and I picked it up and started running.

Surprisingly, no one from the other team stopped me. So, encouraged by that, I picked up speed, speed, speed.

There it was, lying in front of me: The basketball hoop was empty and undefended. I drove right up to it and made a layup. Time seemed to stand still. I remember to this day how softly the ball went through the net.

Then a deep silence. Then laughter erupted in the hall. What was going on? Why was everyone laughing at me? When I turned around, I saw the coach with his face in his hands and I knew: I had scored a basket in our own hoop.

I won't talk about the embarrassment in the locker room, on the way back, in the car, and the silence of my parents. As for me... I wasn't sad at all. I mean, why would I be sorry? I knew it now: I hated playing basketball and thanks to this "wrong" layup, I could finally stop.

I don't like competition. I don't like any kind of competitive relationship. I never will. But after that day, I continued to enjoy watching basketball games for many years. Because as long as I'm not in it, I think it's a great game.

And every time I watch a basketball game, I ask myself: What would my life be like if I hadn't failed at basketball, or worse, if I hadn't given up and kept playing even when I knew I had failed?

Sometimes failing is the best thing that happens to us. Instead of pushing ourselves to be good at something we don't want to be good at, we can put all our energy into doing what we love right. That's when we can tell ourselves that we should never give up. That's when we climb the stairs with all our might.

After I quit basketball, I devoted myself to reading and writing. I knew very well what I didn't want. That I should work alone instead of being part of a team - and I realize that can be a great thing for some people. I had accepted that.

This is my truth. It always will be. And to learn that, I had to fail in front of hundreds of people. And I'm glad I did. Otherwise I could have spent my whole life ignoring my own desires, couldn't I?