Cadence Kelly

I belong

in early morning rinks

where cold air bites at my lungs

and hard work speaks louder than words.

I belong

in locker rooms filled with laughter,

pressure,

and teammates who became family somewhere along the way.

I belong

in the quiet moments after practice

when younger girls ask me if they are good enough,

strong enough,

capable enough,

and I get to tell them yes

before they fully believe it themselves.

I belong

in hospital hallways

where healing is not always loud,

where compassion matters just as much as medicine,

and where people need someone

to remind them they are more than pain or diagnosis.

I belong

in the spaces where people feel broken

and are learning how to believe in themselves again.

I belong

with sleeves rolled up

donating blood in honor of my grandmother,

because strangers once gave my family

more time with someone we loved.

I belong

in communities built on resilience,

service,

teamwork,

and hope.

Not because life has been easy,

but because difficult moments

showed me exactly where my heart returns to.

And maybe belonging is not one single place after all.

Maybe it is every space

where people choose to lift one another forward.