Figuring it out and ‘sports are helping me get there’

Continued from Back Page mon and accepted, but even despite that, it never felt like my community. And although it makes no sense that I needed to watch interviews of famous basketball players to find queer solidarity in concepts my friends had spoken about for years, discovering a group of people with a shared queerness in a niche space finally allowed me to build the queer space I needed.

I wrote the first draft of this piece a year and a half ago scribbled in my locked notes app. Since then, on almost every plane ride, finally isolated from distraction, I have come back to the draft. Sometimes I add to it, wordsmith and think more, and other times I just read it.

Often when I sit down to write my column, I’m not exactly sure how to put everything in words and wrap my rambles in a tightly knotted bow. As I sit here writing this column’s finale, I am no longer pontificating about another person’s story or cultural touchstone – instead, I’m writing my own story. Throughout the two dozen times I’ve come back to this piece, including in the more recent frantic moments knowing it will see the light of day, I am never sure how to explain the transformative power a sports league has had on me in tidy thesis that my ever-so-patient editors will sign off on.

It is no secret a lot of the world hates the WNBA, and caring about it means developing a tough skin. Battling my urges to fight Twitter trolls in my mentions or having to justify every statistic about a game you love is a constant challenge.

Caring about women’s basketball is exhausting, but it’s part of what’s made me stronger.

The more confident I became with the statistics, financial innerworkings and free agency pontifications of “the W,” the more I became sure of who I am. Although I’m not exactly sure why, the WNBA gave me the voice and space I needed to be myself in my own unique way.

Writing this piece has challenged me immensely. There is nothing like knowing your words will be splashed across the back page of your college newspaper to force your concrete, succinct thoughts on your chaotic identity. Even though I have found a level of acceptance, it is scary to share who you are and not fear being known as a walking cliche. But as I’ve tried to prove throughout this column, sports are deeply impactful, and although I haven’t fully figured out how to tell my story, sports are helping me get there.

— Contact Gabriella Lewis at gabriella.lewis@emory.edu