life lessons

I would

by Katie Welker

I made the hardest decision of my 25 year-old life on Monday, and today I felt its effects in full force. After two years of coaching cheerleading, this week I finally told my girls that I won’t be continuing on next year. And earlier tonight, we had our last practice of the season, a time that can only be described as bittersweet.

Oops, sometimes we like to eat a lot in practice...
Oops, sometimes we like to eat a lot in practice…

Practices are where the heart and soul of a team come together. It’s where I get the opportunity to teach skills, listen to their stories, and hopefully offer some useful insight. Yes, games are an important time to showcase our hard work, but practices are where the relationships that make this decision so difficult are formed.

After my girls left tonight I sat in that empty gym and just cried. Straight up sobbed like a fool for no one else but the creepy janitor in the hallway to hear.

I pictured all of the girls that I have coached in that gym over two years, all the times they made me laugh, drove me crazy, taught me something new about myself, rolled their eyes at me, complained about conditioning, relied on me for advice, and most importantly, shouted “Thanks, Coach!” or “Love ya, Coach!” It played like a movie in my mind. Closing the door on those memories was heartbreaking. Even as I type this I’m still shaking my head at the decision i’ve made, naively hoping that maybe some miracle solution will drop out of the sky.

Bittersweet

Yet in truth, this is the best choice for me and the life I know I want to continue to make for myself. Now that cheerleading is ruled as an official sport in New York State, my commitment time would have doubled next year, and there would be a demand for extra flexibility that I simply do not have anymore.

So I chose me: I chose my career and the opportunity to get better at my craft each and every day. I chose a lifestyle with more time for family, friends, traveling, yoga, writing, and other elements that give me happiness in an entirely different way.

For two full years, I made room in my life for coaching. I worked late to make up for hours lost when I had to leave the office early; turned down dinners with friends and networking events; answered texts from concerned parents at 6 a.m.; put literally thousands of extra miles on my car; sacrificed time with my family because I had practice or a game… the list goes on.

Out there killin' it
Out there killin’ it

But I also had the rare opportunity to positively impact over thirty high school girls in the best way that I knew how. I saw them improve right before my eyes, celebrated their joys and worked through their frustrations, and now believe without a shadow of a doubt that if nothing else, they know they can depend on me if they ever need anything, whether they’re 15 or 50.

My captains <3
My captains holding me up 🙂

Life tends to hand us critical choices that demand to be made. Unfortunately many of them are both difficult and also right for us.

So what do you do? In most cases, the answer is simple: ask yourself, would you do it again? Would you relive the experience just as it was?

I would. And that’s something to be grateful for.

My girls
My girls

Keep going

by Katie Welker

Tomorrow, January 11, 2015, marks the one-year “anniversary” of my brother’s passing. While no time frame or date on a calendar could ever justify or help make sense of the loss my family has endured, I can’t help but to take a little more time than usual to reflect on what a whirlwind of a year it has truly been.

Surprisingly, losing Thomas made me more independent than ever before. It’s not that I don’t lean on friends and family when I need to; I’m grateful for the support and comfort that’s shown, and most days I embrace it. But death has had a way of making me not only realize, but truly believe, that I am the only one who controls my life. No one else. Not my parents, siblings, friends, coworkers, no one. Just me.

So in this past year, I stopped – to the best of my ability – over analyzing what others thought of me, my choices, my actions, all of it. I reminded myself that what others think of me is none of my business.

I invested more time into the power of my mind and all of its possibilities through the practice of yoga and also through the rapid consumption of content. Yoga helps me to focus on one thing at a time, control my anxiety, and continue to keep a positive state of mind. Additionally, I’ve stayed true to my personal goal of reading at least one book a month, and have made a more conscious effort to read publications and articles that are outside of my usual wheelhouse.

On top of that, I slowly but surely am figuring out the limits that I want to set for myself. I left a job that I didn’t enjoy (which led me to one that I love), I turn down plans that deep down I know I want no part of, and I’m more diligent about who I’m willing to share my time with. Overall, I’m smarter about when I say yes and when I say no. 

Not all of these shifts of control were a product of some magical revelation I had when Thomas passed. And it doesn’t shed light into the cracks of sadness and honest depression that inevitably come from an unforeseen loss of a loved one. I still cry, throw questions out into the universe that can’t be answered, wish people were more compassionate and just nicer to each other (because why wouldn’t you be?) and wish that I had more than memories to hold onto.

But because I know that I only have control of myself, I choose to take care of my own life to the best of my ability. And on the one-year mark of his loss, I’m going to choose to celebrate Thomas and all of the quirks he had which I love and miss so dearly. I’ll watch the Cowboys game and hope they kick Green Bay’s ass. I’ll wear his Dallas scarf and sleep with his Dallas blanket and smile at old photos that I now cherish.

But i’m also going to make sure that I take a second to give myself some credit. Because for 365 days, I chose to keep going and not let something that happened to me dictate my next steps. To continue on despite hardships, no matter the kind, is something we should all be proud of.

So here’s to you, and here’s to me, and here’s to my brother Thomas. May we all choose to keep going.

Miss you now. Miss you always.
Miss you now. Miss you always.