sisters

Matter

Posted on by Lauren

I am not a winning Coach.

The loss this weekend shattered me when, with good intention, my husband commented of the other team, “They were coached well.” 

They were. It was the God’s-to-honest truth. 

Their coach was intentional, level-minded and strategic. 

His girls performed to his expectations without much fanfare. 

Meanwhile, I’m looking my worst player in her eyes and telling her I see her. 

I see her insecurities, worry and anxiety. 

I know she doesn’t feel good enough and at the end of the day, I want her to feel, she’s more than good-enough. She’s her best. 

It’s me. 

I see me. 

I was never good enough and all I ever wanted was for someone to tell me I was.

I am not a winning coach. 

But to someone, I matter. 

They matter.

Listen

Posted on by Lauren

“You’re not LISTENING to me!” she exclaimed. 

The light switch went off. 

I remember feeling that way, too, when I was her age. 

Misunderstood.

Her father and I reviewed our game plan and saw no error. 

And yet, that’s the funny thing about plans. 

They’re just that. 

Plans. 

We had good intentions. 

But so is the path to hell. 

I showed my hands. 

“Ok.”  I said. 

“Really?” she replied, in disbelief. 

“Yea. We’re just here to support you.” 

And maybe that’s all we ever need to hear. 

Camille Vaughan Photography

Green Grass

Posted on by Lauren

Counting down the hours, I could not wait to leave. 

A break from cooking, boo-boos and bedtime. 

Time to eat where and when we wanted. 

Time to sleep in, time with my friend. 

We decorated, wined and dined. 

We puzzled, visited the spa and stayed up late to watch movies. 

It was everything I wanted and yet . . . 

Counting down the hours, I could not wait to leave. 

I missed my husband and children. 

The grass is always greener.

Three Words

Posted on by Lauren

It’s just three words so why are they the hardest to say aloud?

“I. Need. Help.”

Her teachers were shocked: “She is so happy and helpful in class. She has friends and is on honor roll. I never saw this coming.”

How many times have we heard this same story of surprise? 

At what point do we not wait until it becomes irreversible regret and start paying attention to the little signs?

Depression is not sudden. 

It’s gradual. 

We know this but we don’t want to label it so we look for other explanations. 

Meanwhile, they continue drowning.

Not my child. 

“But if I tell her what’s wrong, I’ll cry!” She laments. 

It’s better than crying in the bathroom, I remind her.

School therapists are like life guards; on the side ready to offer help when needed. 

Our struggles may be a part of our story but they don’t have to be the end.

But first, we must take the hardest, most important step. 

Admit that we are struggling and ask for help. 

It’s just three words.

Camille Vaughan Photography

Lead

Posted on by Lauren

“Let me lead.” I plead. 

Do you trust me?  Then, let me lead.

Faith over fear. 

We’re in this together. I explain to her. 

It’s not me against you. 

Instead, me with you. 

I walk alongside you, child. 

I witness your growth, next to you. 

Encouraging you. Believing in you. Cheering you on. 

Not against you. With you.  

Arms linked, we march towards your bright future. 

Until I let go. And you lead. 

I trust you. 

Faith over fear. 

You lead. 

Camille Vaughan Photography

Thankless

Posted on by Lauren

Y’all. They cute but let’s be real. 

This is the most thankless job I’ve ever signed up for. 

I guess this is what the mid-life crisis is? When you’re too far to turn around and make a different choice?

I was almost a screenwriter. An actress. Famous.

Instead, I’m a mom. A coach. A teacher. A writer. 

Oh, wait. 

My life isn’t over just because I chose differently.

It’s different, yes. Richer, yes. Harder, yes. 

But I’m not done.  

I’m just getting started. 

This is the most thankless job I’ve ever signed up for. 

But I’ll be damned if I don’t embrace the choice I made and inspire children to follow their own dreams.  

Let’s be real. 

They cute, ya’ll. 

Camille Vaughan Photography

Ballers

Posted on by Lauren

“Unfair!” “Bad call!”  “These refs are the worst.”

All sentiments I heard from my players last basketball season.

Victims.

At our last practice, I gave each girl a flashlight. 

“Ultimately, you choose what you shine your light on.  Are you going to shine it on what is out of your control?  Unfair players and referees?  Offensive injuries?  Or, instead, are you going to shine your light on what you CAN do.  Are you going to see the possibility?”

In the heat of the moment, the lesson remains true: Focus on what you alone can control.

This same principle applies to my daughters with nightmares. 

Can we control the terrible thoughts that enter our heads?  Not always.

But can we allow them to pass by us like a moving thundercloud without allowing them to rain on our parade?  Yes. 

We can choose to shine our light, our thoughts on something that brings us joy. 

A recent trip to the beach, the taste of ice cream, a memory of snow. The possibility.

No, we cannot control that which offends our personal space. 

But we surely can control how we respond to it.  

It’s our light. 

And we choose where it shines. 

Ballers.

Camille Vaughan Photography

The Great Facade

Posted on by Lauren

“It’s ok to feel your feelings.” I whispered into her ear as she sobbed.

She’s been so angry lately. 

But I knew better. 

This had nothing to do with who she is

And everything to do with what she felt. 

She was lost and anger was the easiest path.  

Let’s be real. 

It’s easier to be angry than it is to admit you’re vulnerable and wounded. 

The Great Facade.

Camille Vaughan Photography

Far

Posted on by Lauren

I spent the better part of my first forty years desperate for others to understand how far I’ve come from where I started. 

Surely, they’d respect and understand me more?

But now I know, we all have stories, untold. 

And it’s best to approach all with the grace we’ve always wished upon ourselves. 

Hold my hand. 

Lean in. 

We’ve come so far. 

Camille Vaughan Photography