Izabele Antanavicius '22 Recruiting Profile

It was 2-5 15-40 in the 3rd set, her serve. I had won the first set 6-4 and lost the second 0-6 with no momentum in sight. 

It was my very first semis of a 16s L4, playing against an opponent I had previously never won against. In fact, she’s someone I looked up to. Her incredible power and precision separated her from the rest of the girls in our tennis community, making her style very unique and difficult to defend. 

At this particular moment, it would have been very easy to give up. For me to win this match meant winning the next couple of points with her serving, and then proceed to take the following 4 games. Most deem it extremely unlikely for someone to recover in a situation like this. But I kept going. 

Much of that set remains a blur, but something I do recall is remembering this: my father reminding me - just before heading out to my match - that it’s never truly over till it’s over. Tennis is unique in that you never lose the match until you lose that final point. There’s no stopwatch telling you you have 5 minutes remaining, as is true in most sports. With my father’s voice in the front of my mind, I fought back.

Point after point. Game after game. Soon enough, I found myself up 6-5 about to close out the match. 40-15 me, she’s serving, she misses a backhand down the line… 6-4 0-6 7-5, I persevered. Although this win brought a huge smile to my face, it’s not the win that made me realize something about myself. It’s the fact that instead of giving up, I gave myself a second chance. I was resilient.

Sometimes I find myself granted privilege - in the schools I got to attend, in the coaches my parents hired - and sometimes I find myself at a disadvantage - as a female wanting to be in STEM, as a child in an immigrant family. I’m thankful for the former. But whenever it’s the latter, I remember this story, when the odds are stacked against me, that doesn’t mean I can’t still come out on top and get what I want. Again. And Again.