This week, I found myself standing in a moment I’ve lived many times before, except this time, it happened on a pickleball court.
Let me set the scene… and see if you can relate.
I was excited like, giddy about getting back into pickleball. It’s been my latest joy, a way to move my body, meet new people, and feel free again. Texas summers are really hot, so I was especially excited to find a new indoor facility with beginner-friendly leagues and air conditioning. (Hallelujah!)
I had recently met two younger women in a beginner’s class, and we instantly clicked. We were all new-ish to the game, at least on the surface. I was taking the class as a refresher. One of them was taking it for the second time. The other was a brand-new beginner. And we all were looking for women to play with. I thought: I manifested my pickleball crew!
We decided to join a special class together “3 and Me,” a semi-private coaching and play session. One of the women had to cancel last minute, but the other showed up. Let’s call her Lisa.
Lisa was brand new to the game, first-week-new. The instructor invited another advanced beginner to round out our foursome, and after each game, we’d switch partners. Every team Lisa played on ended up losing.
Now, I’ve always been an athlete. I’ve got competitive fire and coordination, even in middle age. And I’m an empath. So when Lisa missed the ball or looked discouraged, I felt for her. I could feel her discomfort in my own body.
I tried to cheer her on, “Good serve, Lisa!” but I could feel the energy drop in the room – for her, for the other players, and for me.
Afterwards, I told her how much it helped me in the beginning to just practice, no pressure, no scoring. Just light dinking to get comfortable with the paddle and moving around the court. I even offered to rent a court and play with her one-on-one so she could build that comfort at her own pace.
But she said she wanted to learn in a beginner’s league instead. I smiled. I nodded recognizing what was happening.
We both wanted to play, but we wanted to learn in different ways. And while she was a friendly face, someone I genuinely liked, we weren’t at the same level of ability.
Later that evening, I realized I had a decision to make:
Would I choose comfort and familiarity… or growth and compatibility? It wasn’t personal. Just a difference in pace.
That night, I went home and reread the league descriptions. I was planning to join the beginner’s league thinking that was “my level.” But the truth? I already knew how to hold my paddle. I knew how to keep score. I knew the basics. I wasn’t a true beginner in that sense anymore.
So I did something that I might not have done five years ago:
I signed up for the Advanced Beginner League. I paid my registration fee. I didn’t wait for Lisa. I didn’t shrink to make anyone else more comfortable. I chose to play at my level. Even if I had to do it not knowing anyone else in the league.
This story isn’t really about pickleball. It’s about something I’ve experienced time and time again. As a woman in midlife with energy, clarity, and a whole lot of fire, it can be hard to find people who match your rhythm. Not because you’re “too much.” But because you move with purpose. With readiness. With self-trust. With an eagerness to embrace life.
And in my experience? That kind of energy becomes rare as we mature. I’m finding it to be especially true among people in midlife.
For years, I used to second-guess myself wondering if I was being too ambitious, too intense, too eager. And underneath all of that, I often asked myself:
Where do I actually fit in?
I’m vibrant, adventurous, and open-minded, often more so than those my age. But I am my age. And that can land me in a strange in-between: too young in spirit for my peers, and too seasoned in soul for the younger crowd.
For healthy, emotionally healed, high-vibrational women in midlife, it can be hard to find alignment. Our energy is strong, but the spaces and people around us don’t always reflect that.
But now? I know the truth:
Some people are beautiful connections, but not compatible companions. Some will cheer you on, but only from a distance, not beside you. And some aren’t meant to grow with you… just to remind you that you’re ready to grow.
I still hope to find a few good pickleball sisters to play with consistently, but I’m not waiting anymore. And I’m not shrinking anymore to meet someone where they are just to make them comfortable. I’ve got my paddle, my purpose, and my power.
And that’s more than enough.
P.S.
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~Kofi