The ball bounces off the backboard and lands into my extended hands as I pivot to the outside of the block and snap it over my head to the outlet. I put my head down as I trail behind the fast break, reaching the top of the key right before my teammate scores the layup. I find my girl and back pedal to my position on defense; one eye on my opponent, one eye on the ball, my back to the basket. This is my role. This is what I do. This is what I love. The game of basketball involves strategy, teamwork and muscle memory, which are just some of the reasons I've been in love with it since I was 5 years old. I played basketball for eleven yeas, on various travel, AAU and school teams. For a long time, it was a huge part of my life.

As I got older, though, I became more and more frustrated with the dynamic of each girls' basketball team I was a part of. Girls can be clique-y and only look out for themselves. They want the coach to notice their individual talent rather than focus on ways we can improve as a team. And the coaches fed right into it. You would think that a coach would see through the bullshit and focus on the team as a whole, but I have had experiences with multiple coaches who have chosen favorites and have disregarded everyone else's handiwork. And because of this, I fell out of love with basketball.

I was never the fastest player. Never the top scorer. Never the best. I was never going to be and I didn't want to be; that wasn't my goal. But I believe in hard work, dedication to the team, having fun and trying your best. I used to work extra days at tournaments hosted by my team, film the varsity games, ask questions and push myself during practices, hoping that my dedication would get me somewhere. But I came home from middle school and high school games with tears brimming my eyelids, wondering why my best wasn't good enough, wondering why my teammates refused to give me a chance, wondering why I put myself through hours of disappointment each and every day.

By the time my senior year rolled around, I was faced with an extremely difficult decision; I decided to not play basketball during my last year of high school. While this broke my heart, I had the privilege of becoming the assistant coach for a team of 4th and 5th-grade girls. Not only was I able to share my knowledge about the game with adorable little girls who hung on every word I said, I also formed bonds with them that have forever changed my heart. We did each other's hair, made secret handshakes, had inside jokes, and hugging was a daily thing. By mid-January, I was happy to escape the pressures of high school by hanging out with my thirteen ten-year-old best friends. I felt that I was really able to make a difference during their season and I was able to coach with a wonderful man who is extremely passionate about basketball. Between this coach and those girls, they really made me learn to love the game again.

My basketball experiences were also able to serve as a kind of inspiration for my little brother, who watched, learned and remembered things that happened during my games as he was growing up. His basketball IQ is a lot higher than most kids his age, and even though my basketball career is over, his is in full swing. Over Thanksgiving break, I had the opportunity to watch the first game of his middle school season and it was so fulfilling to see the boys work together. I also felt frustrated for my brother when the ref called two quick fouls on him because that used to happen to me all the time. I would get in my own head, forget that my brain was quicker than my body before acting and sometimes when you're 13 years old and 5'10" the ref is going to make the call whether you deserve it or not. It's a frustrating phenomenon but it is enjoyable to share experiences like this with my brother, for our roles have switched and I learn more and more from him every day.

I miss it. The adrenaline, the triumph, the blood, sweat and tears. While many of my teammates and coaches made me feel inferior and not good enough, I must recognize the two people who never failed to believe in me. I am forever grateful for my dad, who coached me on and off the court throughout the years and who was always willing to help me work on my game. I wanted nothing more than to make him happy. And my freshman coach, Ms. Bernard, who was my favorite of all time. She gave me the Coach's Award at the end of the season and no matter what, she always recognized my hard work and my love for the game. I hope my brother and my girls have experiences like this because I don't want them to lose their passion the way that I did. I want them to thrive, practice, stay disciplined and always know that I believe in them even when it feels like no one else does. My new goal is not to work on myself and my skills, but to inspire younger generations to fall in love with the game of basketball and to never let that passion fade away.