If you asked me what this season has really been about, I wouldn’t just say tennis. I’d say it’s been about learning how to compete while healing.

I’m a sophomore on the women’s tennis team at Grand Valley State University, and from the outside, everything probably looks normal. I still show up to practice, lift early, travel for matches, and compete. But what people don’t always see is what it feels like to do all of that while trying to move on from heartbreak.

The hard thing about heartbreak is that life doesn’t pause for it. Practice starts at the same time. Coaches expect intensity. Teammates depend on you. Meanwhile, your mind is replaying memories, and some days your chest feels heavier than your tennis bag. There were moments I stepped on the court feeling split in two — the athlete ready to grind, and the girl quietly trying to hold it together.

In a strange way, tennis became my anchor. The court is consistent. The lines don’t move. The net stays the same height. When everything in my personal life felt uncertain, tennis gave me something steady. During long rallies, I didn’t have time to overthink. I had to focus on my footwork, my breathing, the next ball. For a couple hours, it was just point by point — and that helped more than I expected.

Healing while competing isn’t pretty, though. There were practices where my energy was low and I was frustrated at myself for not being at my best. I had to learn that strength doesn’t always mean dominating a match. Sometimes it just means showing up. Sometimes it means finishing practice even when your heart feels tired.

Being part of a team made a difference. Even when I didn’t say much about what I was going through, just being around my teammates reminded me that my life is bigger than one relationship. The laughs at practice, the shared struggles, the small wins — they grounded me.

I’m still healing. But I’m also still competing. And I’ve learned that I don’t have to choose between being strong and being human. I can serve the next point, even if my heart is still putting itself back together.