After I stopped playing tennis I was having troubles to find real happiness. I was not depressed, I just could not find anything that made me “excited” or complete. Nothing would compare to the feeling I had when I was on the court, this kind of adrenaline that words can’t describe. My father was devastated. He couldn’t believe that after all of these years of the huge sacrifices we’ve made, I stopped playing. After all, it wasn’t only my dream to succeed, it was his too.
I didn’t want to hear about tennis. Didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to see a racquet, and whenever they would play tennis on TV I would change the channel right away. I stopped following the results, pretending that I don’t care anymore, but it’s not that I didn’t care, I was just trying to move on with my life and I was frustrated to see my friends winning grand slam matches while I’m sitting at home doing nothing.
And now what? Tennis was my whole life. I didn’t know anything else. All I was doing was going to school, and suddenly my life felt empty. I was trying to keep myself positive, hoping better things are coming and I’d find something else I love. And then I started modelling.
I finally started to feel this rush again. As I’ve been doing it more and more, I slowly fell in love it. I fell in love with the camera. Things started to click, and all of the sudden I got a big opportunity to get the recognition I was striving for. It involved leaving home and move to the other side of the planet, to one of the greatest places in the world for fashion. There was no doubt in my decision to leave right away.
The first time I moved out from home was for tennis when I was 16, I was also by myself, so honestly it wasn’t scary to me. Soon after, I started to develop dreams and setting goals in the fashion world. I dream about achieving these goals every single day and night. But sometimes, when I’m walking past top models on the street, I’m having doubts. A voice in my head tells me “Can I really be her one day? Maybe I’m dreaming too big again?” I’ve always been told that I’m a beautiful girl, and I never felt unconfident about my looks. But when you get into this industry, and you’re surrounded by 5’11 bombshells, it’s not always easy to stay confident.
My father used to be in the music industry in his younger years, but he wasn’t making a lot of money going around the country and preforming, so he gave up his dream and found a steady job. He regrets it until this day. He used to tell me that the fashion industry is much tougher than tennis and I’ll regret going into it, just like he regrets giving up on his music dream. He always said I’m beautiful, but not enough to be something extraordinary in the fashion world. He said it when we used to argue, so I know it came out of anger and frustration. I never thought that I am extraordinary, but it made lose my confidence even more. T
hen, when I moved away from home to try pursuing my modelling goals and I started being around top models, I remembered his words, and even though I was working well, I thought he was right. I tried not to show it, and look as confident as I can, but the very few people that know my real personality, knew something was wrong. My agent kept asking me: “Why do I believe in you more than you believe in yourself?” I never knew what to say. Even though my agent is very close to me, I never told him (or almost anyone) what was going on in my mind. My dad keeps saying how much he hates the fashion world and how stupid it is. He might have a point in some of his things; this world isn’t as glamorous as it looks. But I love the job itself, when I’m on the set I’m simply happy. It honestly doesn’t feel like a job, because I enjoy it so much. Why do I keep feeling like I betrayed him for not playing tennis anymore? Sometimes I just wish I would never be so ambitious to stand out from the rest. Sometimes I wish I wouldn’t be such a perfectionist. Sometimes I wish I could have normal goals like most people do, like getting accepted to a good school, getting a degree. But what can I do, I’m not that type of person. Never have been and probably never will be.
The other day I was sitting at a coffee shop. They played a tennis match on TV. This Canadian player, Vasek Pospisil was playing. When I was about 11 or 12 years old, he played a tournament in my home country. He wasn’t well known yet, and he played amazing. If I’m not wrong it was one of his first debuts. I became his biggest fan. I remember my dad and I watched a couple of his interviews, and he always seemed like a really sweet guy, and very down to earth. He was talking about the sacrifices his family made for him to be a professional, and it touched our hearts. Because like me, his family didn’t have a lot of money. And I admired him a lot for coming out of nothing. He was young, and even though it was one of his first performances, he was acting like he’s been on the tour for years. There was just something about the way he carried himself on the court that truly inspired me. As I grew up, I continued to love his game and how humble he is, so he kept being my favourite player throughout the years. The last time I saw him was a few years back, when he played the Miami Open. I was actually invited to his match by his opponent, but I remember that secretly, he was the one I wanted to win, and not the guy who invited me. A bit unfair by my side, I know, but he was always my favourite, what can I do.
Anyhow, back to that day at the coffee shop. I started watching his match, and after the first set I had to leave to a meeting. An hour later I realized I forgot my portfolio in the coffee place. I ran back to take it. When I arrived, Vasek has just won the match and was being interviewed on the court. While I was listening to him being interviewed, I suddenly felt tears running down my face. I walked out of there really fast, hoping nobody sees I’m starting to cry and ask if there’s something wrong. I’m not even sure what was wrong. I just suddenly remembered the very first interview that my father and I watched of him. I suddenly remembered everything my father and I have been through all these years. It’s always somewhere in the back of my mind, but I usually keep myself busy with the new life I built, so I somehow avoid these thoughts. But that moment watching Vasek’s interview, brought everything back to me. It reminded me the innocent kid I was back then when I just started to admire him, and how everything started. I can’t tell you how much I miss that innocence. I’ve lost it so long ago. I hate it when people tell me “you’re so young, but so mature for your age, I’m jealous of that.” Because actually, I’m jealous of them, seeing the world in the eyes of a child. Jealous of them, for not overthinking all the time. Maybe it’s because I’ve been living by myself since such a young age. They always ask, “don’t you ever feel lonely after all these years, living by yourself?”
Honestly, I don’t anymore. After all these years, I learned how to be alone without feeling loneliness. But they never understand how did I make such a sacrifice, leaving my family and everything back home just to follow my dream. What I don’t understand is how can they live a life without goals and chasing the things you really want? It just sounds worthless to me. What’s a life without fulfilment? That’s what’s so special about my relationship with my dad, he always understood my ambition to go after my dreams without me having to explain.
It’s been some time since I stopped playing, and my dad is still having troubles to move on and leave tennis behind. I’ll never forget the sacrifices he made for me in order to try to make me succeed. I hope I can make him proud one day as much as he was proud of me when I played. He keeps telling me that he is proud of me of what I’ve accomplished in modelling, and proud of how brave I am, and that he’ll stay proud no matter what. But deep inside I know it isn’t true. He’s much more than just my father, he’s my best friend, my hero. And always will be no matter what happens. In the meanwhile, I’ll keep chasing where you’re I want to be, hoping I can make him proud one day, and maybe myself too.
