Sometimes you need the people who know you best to remind you who you are. That is exactly what happened to me this year when I said yes to coaching my high school alma mater’s softball team.

Four years ago, I left what I once believed was my dream job as the Assistant Head of School at the all-girls high school I attended. The school was evolving in a direction that no longer aligned with my personal values. I was heartbroken that a community I had attended, served, and loved for so many years was unwilling to fully listen to or consider my ideas for how to better support this generation of students. When I left, I wasn’t sure I could ever support the mission again.

With my experience leading schools and my knowledge of the latest research on educating young women, I decided to co-found my own school. Our leadership academy became the place where I could finally implement the ideas I had carried for years. It gave me the opportunity to put language to the framework I had developed for empowering students to lead.

Through building the school, I grew my confidence as a leader. But starting and operating a school also came with challenges. In the end, we built a model that was not sustainable, and after three years, we made the difficult decision to close our doors. As proud as I was of what we created, I still carried the feeling that I had not fully accomplished what I set out to do. I wasn’t sure I had truly gotten the chance to develop leaders in the way I had hoped.

After closing the school, I felt called back to my roots in women’s sports. I knew I wanted to coach, support coaches, and empower girls and women to lead through sports. I started my business, The Positive Coach, and entered the year with a commitment to stay open to whatever opportunities came my way.

Then, in January, my good friend Meghan, someone I had played high school softball with, texted me out of the blue to invite me to our alumnae softball game. I hesitated. Given how my last chapter at the school had ended, I wasn’t sure I was ready to return.

“If I am flying out, you have to play,” Meghan texted me.

“Okay, I’ll be there,” I replied.

I knew showing up at that field would require a lot of reflection and soul-searching, but something inside me told me it would be worth it.

I emailed the head coach to RSVP, and he responded almost immediately.

“We are looking for a pitching coach. Are you interested? Let’s schedule a time to talk on the phone,” he wrote.

After a phone call and a coffee meeting, I reached back out to Meghan and told her I was seriously considering coaching again.

“You should do it,” she said.

After many conversations with my family and support system, I realized Meghan was right. Mercy softball was part of who I am. It was where I became one of the top pitchers in the area, where I first learned how to lead, and where I developed into the person I am today.

Ironically, one of the reasons I originally went back to work at the school years earlier was because I wanted to coach softball. But as my career in administration progressed, I drifted further and further from the field. Now, I had the opportunity to return purely as a coach, without other responsibilities pulling me in different directions. For the first time, I could give back to the program in a way that felt meaningful and authentic to me, on my own terms.

I am incredibly grateful to Coach Erik for giving me the opportunity to return to Mercy. He not only trusted me to coach the pitchers, but also gave me the freedom to help develop our players’ mental game, confidence, and leadership skills.

The lessons I had dreamed of teaching at my school, but never fully had the chance to implement, came to life with this team. Together, Erik, the coaching staff, and I built a culture rooted in high expectations, high accountability, and high support. At the center of it all was connection.

Almost immediately, we saw our team chemistry deepen. The players became more vulnerable with one another. They supported each other wholeheartedly, and because they felt cared for, their confidence soared. As their confidence grew, so did their willingness to work hard for one another.

For the first time, I truly felt like I had become the coach and mentor I always hoped to be for a community that means so much to me. The experience was both deeply rewarding and deeply healing.

After we won our league title, I realized on the morning of our playoff game that it had been exactly one year since we closed the doors of my leadership academy. It would have been easy to focus on the grief of that loss. Instead, I felt grateful. Closing that chapter created space for something new.

This season reminded me that I do know how to empower girls to lead. It reminded me that coaching with heart works.

We had a historic season, but more importantly, we built something far greater than wins and losses. Our team developed a closeness that feels increasingly rare today. The girls genuinely care about one another, and they know they are cared for by their coaches. That bond is something they will carry with them long after softball ends.

As both a coach and a member of the Mercy sisterhood, I am incredibly proud to have been part of it.

To me, that is the ultimate win.