I’ve spent the last few years learning how to play hockey. Let me explain.

My daughter started playing when she was six, and somehow, things got intense really fast. These kids are out there on half-ice, barely able to skate, definitely not able to shoot, hardly knowing the rules, while the parents are yelling like it’s the Stanley Cup. I’ll admit, I was one of them. Loud. Passionate. Maybe a little too into it.

By the end of the season, a few of us moms looked at each other and said, “We could totally do this…”

Turns out, hockey is ridiculously hard. I’ve come to believe that anyone who can play this game with even a decent level of skill is basically a Jedi. It’s humbling.

I stopped yelling so much, humility will do that to you, and I started learning to play. Two years later, I’ve reached the skill level of a Squirt A1 player (translation: a competent 10-year-old). And honestly? That feels like a win.
Fast forward to now, I was lucky enough to find a women’s beginner league in my area, run by some truly awesome people. It’s been a game changer.