Personal Narrative: How Swimming Changed My Life

I learned to master swimming much faster than walking. As a child, I was drawn to water. It was soothing, a cool blanket that encompassed my body as I floated just below the surface. Whenever I spotted a body of water as a child, whether it be a pool, lake, pond or stream, I would beg to swim. I was first taught swimming in my grandparents’ pond. My mother and I would spend hours mastering the art of the doggy paddle. The better I became, the more I longed for the activity.

I learned about swimming competitively in the third grade when my eldest brother joined the middle school swim team. Swimming had never been considered a sport in my world prior. I communicated my desires to my parents and that same year was enrolled in swim lessons at the Williamston Community Pool, to learn the strokes necessary for a competitive swimming. I showed up to my first lesson in a new elastic one-piece bathing suit and neon goggles. I assumed that the lessons would be easy and that I was free to splash around the pool as I wished. That was not the case.

Suddenly, my relaxation time in the pool was cut short: I failed level three. After I received the report, I was shocked. I convinced myself that I would never swim again. Of course, with my third-grade mindset, I had yet to see that not passing was entirely my own fault. I spent most of each lesson goofing off when I should have been working on fundamentals. When I ran to my father, wallowing in my failure, he explained that failure is a part of life and is something you build upon. Failure is not the end of the world; instead it is fuel for