Sport has always been a constant in my life, the one place I turn to that makes me feel entirely myself. It’s interesting how your favourite sport can determine your mood for an entire week, yet for me, it makes perfect sense.

At 22, I’m proud to call myself an aspiring sportswriter. Not because I get to analyse games or give athletes a chance to share their stories, but having the chance to live and breathe sport every day.

Being a coach means you have the opportunity to see young athletes improve themselves, and seeing the light switch on in their minds when something finally clicks keeps me grounded. It’s an inspiration to me, a daily reminder of why I fell in love with sport to begin with.

But my relationship with sport hasn’t always been steady. Growing up, my passion faded. The feeling of being overlooked, invisible almost, slowly drowned my football dreams I once had. The truth is, I failed due to the lack of self-belief; the drive it takes to reach the level I wanted wasn’t there. It’s taken me six years to understand how many opportunities I let slip because of a confidence I never had.

Coaching was the start of what was ever slowly stitching me back together. It was the understanding that failure is natural and setbacks are inevitable. Something is humbling about watching a kid attempt a skill for the first time, fail, and then try again while looking with a mixture of frustration and hope, waiting for your guidance.

It feels like fate, having the opportunity to give the advice and support I know I always wanted when I was younger. Every session reminds me that I never lost football. I just found it in a different form.

Writing came into my life similarly, when looking for a place to express my thoughts, putting pen to paper was the best course of action for me. I naturally struggle expressing myself through words, but writing has always been something I turn to. The more I’ve written, the more I’ve learned that stories are the heartbeat of sport. Interviewing athletes has made me confront parts of myself I’ve buried, the self-doubt and fear of never being enough. Putting their stories into words helped me understand my own journey a little better.

I find myself now in this strange grey area. During the day, I’m on the pitch with cones and bibs, instilling confidence in the younger generation, something I once yearned for. But by the evenings, I’m deep in thought, finding a new way to chase the perfect story that captures the feeling only sport can give you. Coaching allows me to experience first-hand the emotions of the game, while writing lets me share it with the world.

Together, they’ve become a version of a dream I never knew was possible.

Over time, I’ve come to understand that passion never truly fades; it evolves into something new. Things that define you at 12 rarely define you at 22, and that’s part of growth. I now realise confidence isn’t something that just appears; it is a build-up through missteps and small wins along the way. I used to think being overlooked meant my dream was never meant to be. Now I know it was pushing me down another path that I was always meant to take. I’m now choosing a life where I stop running from my potential and start running towards it.