What kind of shoes you are wearing, the color of your shirt.

At an open gym I walk in anonymous. I can put on my gear quietly, by myself. I can fill my water bottle and watch everyone around me. I am beautiful like a clean piece of paper. I am potential.

The way you wear your hair, how tall you are.

The other girls are both friends and rivals, even though we haven’t met. We regard each other. I can like them all the same, because I’m comfortable with myself here.

Your body type, how precisely you bend your knees.

It’s easy to play a perfect ball, and easy to forget a bad one. I can choose when to be memorable and stand out of the crowd. But I have to make a conscious decision not to lose my edge; fade into the background.

The way you hold your shoulders, how loud you are.

I can let my play define me. I can even step outside of my usual self. I will create this image for you, everyone, myself to see. And I leave the rest to imagination.

How pretty your smile is, the way you play.

Eventually I give them my name, and where I’m from. I ask about them, and we laugh about someone else. The open gym goes on; I am still an athlete. But once again I have to start living inside out.