Some of you know I played field hockey in college.
I played at a Division I school, which sounds impressive on paper. But the truth is, my team never had a winning season. And I was the goalie. (womp womp)
I hold a record for saves, which isn't all that glamorous when you're getting peppered with shots and the scoreboard reads 10–0.
Northwestern is now a national champion program with Olympians. That was not my team.
When I joined, they had a streak of losing seasons behind them. I was also told I'd probably never play. I signed up anyway.
Those four years shaped me in ways I didn't understand at the time. Being the last line of defense on a losing team, serving as captain for two years it taught me resilience. How to show up when the outcome isn't going your way. How to keep going without the reward of “winning”.
I used to be jealous of the lacrosse team. They were national champions and almost never lost. One weekend they lost for the first time, and they were completely wrecked. Couldn't function. Couldn't get out of bed.
I remember thinking: I'm grateful I know how to lose.
That skill has carried me further than any winning streak ever could.
Winning doesn't teach you much. If you're always winning, are you really learning? Growth lives at the edge. It lives where you're uncomfortable, challenged, and sometimes getting beat.
I think about the best athletes in the world. How does someone like Rafael Nadal train? Who pushes him? When you're already great, the only way forward is to seek out environments that force growth.
That's one of my themes this year: choosing environments that expand me.
Which means sometimes you'll be challenged. Sometimes you'll struggle. Sometimes you'll lose. And that's exactly the point.
I may have been getting my ass handed to me most days, but I never felt like a loser.
I've thought a lot about why. Other teams would wonder how we kept picking ourselves up every day, believing the outcome could be different.
Two things mattered more than the score:
The outcome didn't define the experience. I was on scholarship, getting paid to do something I loved with people I would do anything for. If being a loser meant a different life, I didn't want to be a winner.
Every day was a reset. I showed up, did the work, knowing the outcome wasn't entirely in my control. The only thing I owned was my effort and attitude. Cliche, sure. Also, true. I didn't focus on the potential to suck. I focused on getting another chance to show up and challenge myself.
Now? I'm nostalgic for all of it. Even the losses.
So take a look at your life. What are you dismissing right now that you'll miss later?
My two cents: love being a loser. It might be the best thing that ever happens to you.
Stay unscripted my loves 🖤 - EmmyLu