By Addison Pattillo
Confidence in sports is often misunderstood. From the outside, athletes can look 'fearless,' like belief is something they are simply born with. For me, it was something that I had to slowly build through repetition, failure, and learning to trust the work that I was putting in everyday. It didn’t come from one big defining moment, it was shaped by the smaller ones. Every new environment can challenge you to find your confidence in different ways. Growing up, I was always playing alongside my two sisters. They were my first teammates and my first competition. Playing with them meant there was a constant standard to meet. We would challenge each other with learning new skills and pushing one another to keep getting better. That time with my sisters is where everything started for me, it’s where I first felt the excitement of competing and developed a genuine love for the game.
I have always been my own toughest critic. In many ways, that mindset has pushed me to become a better player, it’s made me more disciplined and more committed to improving. But I’ve also learned that being overly critical can hold you back. When I focus too much on what went wrong, I start to lose confidence and trust in myself. Finding the balance between honestly reflecting on my play and developing belief in myself is what has allowed me to keep reaching for more.
At UNC, we talk a lot about how each of us brings different superpowers to the team, and it’s the combination of those strengths that creates greatness. This really stands out to me as a reminder to have trust in the abilities I’m strongest at. This sport demands constant growth, and it’s easy to get caught up in everything I feel like I need to improve. But when I lose sight of what I already do well, that's when the confidence begins to waver. Grounding yourself in your specific and unique strengths, those qualities that set you apart and contribute to your team, becomes incredibly powerful when competing. It fosters a quiet confidence that empowers you to trust yourself, play freely, and let the rest fall on its own.
As an attacker, there are days where my shots just don't find the back of the net. I have found that dwelling on that does not only hold me back, it impacts my team too. Taking a step back and finding other ways to make an impact is what makes all the difference. For me, that means relying on my speed to use in transition and help shift the momentum, or being relentless in the ride to win the ball back. Bringing a consistent hustle is always within your control, and it's something your teammates will both appreciate and rely on.
Another standard my team and I hold ourselves to is to strive for the consistency of excellence. This phrase is a reminder that perfection is not the goal. What matters is showing up every day and committing to being excellent in the small things: effort, focus, and attitude. Confidence isn't about believing that you will never fail. It's about believing that you've prepared enough to keep going even when you do. Confidence comes from the work, from trusting the process, and continuing to love the game even when it challenges you.
One of the most valuable lessons I have learned is to "allow yourself to learn." It's a simple idea, but a powerful one that wasn't easy for me to understand at first. I've always wanted to have things figured out right away. However, this other perspective shifts the focus away from that pressure and instead creates space for growth. It takes patience to accept that progress doesn't always happen right away, and that improvement often comes from moments that feel uncomfortable. But over time, those moments become easier to embrace. At the start of my freshman year of high school, I lacked confidence in the player that I was. I struggled with puffing my chest out, and playing with a steady mindset. But towards the end of that season I gave myself permission to take risks and I started to trust myself. That change didn't happen overnight, but embracing the process of learning made me both a better player and a more resilient one.
At the center of everything for me is how much I genuinely love the game and the people I share it with. It’s hard not to be happy when you are surrounded by such an uplifting, motivated, and energized group of girls. When you truly enjoy the people around you, it is only easier to continue showing up to put in the work. Being around my teammates brings a kind of joy that has made my experience with lacrosse incredibly meaningful. I am often told how happy I look out on the field, how I always seem to have a big smile on my face. That feeling comes naturally from the joy I feel competing with my teammates. There’s something truly special about playing alongside people I care so deeply about, and that connection is a big part of what fuels my passion for this sport.
Instilling confidence in teammates starts with truly knowing them and understanding how each person responds to feedback, encouragement, and pressure. When you take the time to connect with them at their core, your words carry more meaning and your support becomes more effective. Confidence isn’t just built through what you say, it’s reinforced by what you do. Showing up every day, consistently putting in the work, sets a standard that others can trust and follow. That consistency creates an environment where teammates feel secure in themselves and motivated to rise to that same level.
Winning a national championship my freshman year is something I will never be able to put fully into words, no feeling truly compares. The thrill of the victory was unreal, it’s a feeling that makes you want to keep chasing it again and again. That season taught me some very meaningful lessons. I learned the importance of leaning on those around me, drawing on the guidance and experience of older teammates. I also learned to soak in every little moment, appreciating the journey as much as the outcome. And that there is real value in staying dedicated to the work, trusting that it will pay off, and being ready at all times when your name is called.