Almost three years ago when she was 11 years old, Number 4 discovered a particular boarding school and she set her sights on going there for high school.

She didn’t want to go to any boarding school.

She wanted to go to that one.

Last October we went to visit and have an interview.

Knowing there was no way in hell we could afford to pay for it, I was secretly hoping she would hate it once she got there.

Then we could avoid future disappointment.

She fucking loved it.

We all did, actually.

So then she officially applied.

I told her, “You can apply. But the only way you can go is if you get a full scholarship.”

So that’s what she did.

She got a full, 4-year, academic scholarship.

Going away to boarding school is a challenge in a normal year.

But in a pandemic with lots of restrictions in place and not being able to have your family visit and to go through a period of strict quarantine in a room with a person you just met (and weren’t really a good match with) is very, very hard.

Even for adults.

For a 13-year-old, it’s even harder.

That first week at school was the hardest thing Number 4 has ever had to do.

But she made it through.

And even with the quarantining, even with really strict protocols in place for a lot of the time they were there, even with many of the activities she would normally have available to her restricted or cancelled due to the current state of the country, she LOVED her first trimester there.

SHE LOVED IT.

She LOVES the swim team and she’s made a ton of friends and she LOVES her teachers and her classes.

Even with the restrictions in place, what she had available to her was mind blowing to me.

I can’t imagine what a normal year will be like for her, and what it will be like to have a parents’ weekend and to be able to visit her and watch her swim in a swim meet in person.

You get some interesting reactions when you tell people your daughter (or son) is going away to boarding school.

You get the, “Wow! That’s amazing!!! Good for her!!!”

And then you get the, “Oh… what happened?” Or “How could you do that?” Or “I could never do that.”

And not I could never do that in an I-just-don’t-know-if-I-could-let-my-kid-leave-that-early kind of reaction but more of an I-would-never-ship-my-kid-off-like-that-what-a-shitty-parent-your-are reaction.

Whatever the reaction from other people, I don’t care.

You know what is right for your kid.

And this place is the perfect match for Number 4.

PERFECT.

My only regret is that I don’t think I’ll be able to find as perfect a situation for the rest of my kids.

Number 4 is receiving an almost perfectly custom made high school experience in all areas.

Anyway, I wanted to share this little story.

Number 4 is very serious about swimming. She has been since she started. She has big goals.

But when she was 11 years old, she started developing some pretty serious practice anxiety.

She started having panic attacks during practice.

And she wasn’t even practicing at a really intense level yet. It wasn’t like she was overtraining or like she was being asked to do things that were unrealistic.

Even up through this summer, when her coach would give her a hard set at practice, she’d internally freak out.

She doubted her ability. Of course this is irrational thinking, but that’s what anxiety is.

She had little confidence in herself. She cried through many sets at practices.

Then she left for school.

This past Friday night, she had a small, intra-team meet.

Number 4 swam her favorite event — the 200 back.

She swam totally by herself because nobody else on the team opted to swim that event.

This isn’t an ideal racing condition because it’s nice to have at least someone to compete against and push you.

I was able to see her swim because the school livestreamed the meet.

Since she was the only one swimming, the camera was zoomed in on her, and you couldn’t see the clock. I had no idea what her time was.

When she finished, the camera zoomed out and I saw her time.

She fucking crushed it.

She dropped almost 4 seconds, which, at the level she is swimming at now, is A LOT of time to drop in an event.

A LOT.

She qualified for a meet she’s had her eye on for a year.

I talked to her after the meet.

“MOM,” she said.

“I DID GOOD.”

“You were AMAZING,” I told her.

“Mom, I LOVE swimming here so much,” she said.

And then she said,

“AND MOM! All my practice anxiety is gone. It’s totally gone. The sets I used to get freaked out about at home are no big deal now. They don’t even bother me. Nothing scares me anymore.”

She continued.

“Last week at practice we had a really hard set and two girls in my lane got out and threw up in the garbage can and they were like, ‘yeah, we’re done,’ and so I just kept swimming alone.”

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

YES.

YYEESSSS.

YYYYEEEEEESSSSSS.

The pre-anxiety, 10-year-old Number 4 was back.

Fearless. Determined. Confident.

Number 4 has always been proactive and independent and (even though she’s a bit of a wild card and free spirit) responsible.

But something happened to her over the last nine weeks.

Something good.

Number 4 grew up.

Those first five days at school could break a person.

Or they could make a person.

And I don’t know if she’s conscious of it, but Number 4 learned a lot in those first five days at boarding school.

She might have learned more about herself in those five days than she did in the rest of the nine weeks she’s been there.

She can handle hard things.

She can talk herself through anything.

There isn’t anything that’s too hard for her to navigate.

If ever there was an example of how sitting through discomfort makes you a stronger person, this is it.

She is the literal definition of what moving out of your comfort zone, and then moving totally through it , can do for you.

And now I think she truly knows she’s capable of accomplishing anything.

I am so, so, SO proud of her and so, SO happy for her.

And today I’m picking her up.

And I can’t wait to see her.

Learn to tolerate discomfort in a manageable way.

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