First, it was gymnastics. I loved coming to practice, sitting down next to my friends on the fuzzy blue floor, and talking about what skills we would be attempting today. I was pretty much born with a gymnast’s body: I somehow had six-pack abs as a four-year-old and in fifth grade gym class, I beat the boys in a pull-up contest. Gymnastics became my new favorite pastime, and getting better and better at it became a goal of mine.

Unfortunately, I began to feel annoyed with all things gymnastics-related. I’d frequently get headaches during practice and the underside of my tongue would hurt from tensing every muscle in my body while tumbling. Also, I fell off the beam once and got the wind knocked out of me. Furthermore, I could no longer imagine ever becoming an amazing gymnast one day. How would I ever be able to do a back walkover or a back tuck on the beam? Without much thought, I quit. I told my parents I’d come back to gymnastics in the future, and surprisingly, I actually did. But once I realized that I’d have to start participating in competitions, I got discouraged and quit again.

Next, it was dance. When I was younger, I couldn’t remember a time where I didn’t have dance rehearsal; I had been dancing at the same studio since I was three years old. When I was dancing onstage, it was like everything made sense right in that moment. I remember smiling so hard that my face hurt, and not just because smiling is a nearly mandatory act while performing most dances. I genuinely adored everything about performing, even caking the fancy makeup onto my face and feeling it melt off in the heat of the bright stage lights.

I was pretty confident in my talent and skills, but as the years passed, dance lost its appeal. I started to use every possible excuse as to why I couldn’t go to rehearsal: I had a stomachache, the boy I had a crush on made fun of me at school, and the list goes on. During my last year of dance, I was in a class with girls who were all older than me. My middle school self felt like an awkward outsider. My family also began to share how much money my competitive dance program cost (far too much, now that I look back on it). With all things considered, I quit.

Later, it was cheerleading. It sounded like the perfect combination of the two things I had already given up. Cheer combined dance and tumbling with the addition of a ton of positive energy and school spirit. I instantly became a die-hard cheerleader. I was always stretching in my free time, in hopes that I’d be able to do perfect arabesques and heel stretches (while being held in the air) one day.

I was so determined to be the best cheerleader I could be that I attended open gym sessions to practice my tumbling skills. At one of them, I broke my arm while doing a back handspring. After that, I tried my best to stay positive and not blame cheerleading in general for my injury. I actually came back for one more year, but then quit due to pretty insignificant reasons. You can probably sense a pattern here by now: the pros always outweighed the cons, but I listened to the cons.

Recently, it was theater. Once again, theater was another activity that combined dance, lots of energy, and sometimes even tumbling as well. It also introduced me to acting, and I fell in love with that too. I became obsessed with all things theater. I took private vocal lessons, idolized Broadway stars, and even began researching college theater programs. For a long time, I couldn’t imagine doing anything else with my life besides theater. I looked up to the adult actors I had the honor of doing shows with and wanted to be like them when I was older.

But I did get older, and didn't feel the same way anymore. I came to the conclusion that I would rather have a more stable career where I didn't always have to look for new jobs. This fairly illogical thought was driven by feelings of inadequacy and doubt in my talent. So, I said farewell to theater once I started college so I could focus on “what mattered more.” This begs the question, does anything matter more than doing what you love? Probably not.

So what advice do I have to offer from these seemingly negative choices I’ve made? Basically, I want to stress just how imperative it is to really think before you completely ditch something that you love doing.

Sports and activities cut into free time, require endless physical and emotional effort, and can be discouraging, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t worth it. There are always going to be reasons to quit, but there are always going to be reasons to stick with something. When you find something that (almost) always makes your heart leap with joy, do not let the little things get to you. I let the little things get to me, and I deeply regret that. I’m happy with the path I’ve chosen in life, but I can’t help but wonder how much happier I could be if I spent some of my free time doing community theater, for example. Although I do have to say that it’s never too late. If you can relate to my experiences at all, please remember that it’s never too late to get back into the things you love again.