I don’t think I’ve ever experienced anything I’d feel comfortable calling a “tragedy.” Or, at least, when I think of tragedy, I think of things that have happened to my friends which are way worse than anything I’ve ever gone through.
I’d say the most difficult and impactful thing that ever happened to me was my parents getting divorced. I was young, 5 years old, so I don’t remember the actual divorce as being incredibly sad, but growing up in a split household shaped me considerably. I went to 8 schools and lived in 17 houses by the time I graduated high school. I spent a lot of time traveling back-and-forth, picking up where I left things off. Those transitions forced me to be incredibly independent, self-directed, and make friends fast, which to be honest, just made sports more important as it was the primary way for me to make friends. While my parents obviously were my parents and supported me a ton, there’s a part of me that feels like I raised myself a bit, which maybe ended up working out for the better–it’s hard to know. I think since I was freer to make my own choices and do my own thing, I mostly ended up making the right/responsible choice. It’s hard to say for sure, but that’s my gut.
All that said, my parents, in their own and vastly different ways, had a profound effect on my confidence, independence and desire to achieve something. They didn’t push me at all, but always encouraged and told me to believe I could do whatever I wanted. They supported whatever I got into and where there when things were good, but most importantly when things were bad.