Fourteen years of my life was spent on the soccer field, and many of my fondest memories are of traveling for tournaments and celebrating after a great game. My life revolved around soccer, and why shouldn’t it have? I was a strong goalkeeper.

I was fearless in the net and had skills that nobody could deny. I planned on playing all four years in college and knew I wanted to do so since I was young. However, there was always one thing holding me back . . . I was pudgy.

I will be the first to admit that I was not in the best of shape. I hovered between 200 and 220 pounds all throughout high school, and weighing that much definitely made it hard to keep up. Despite that, I made the team all four years in high school, but not without coaches making it clear how they felt about my physique. My own high school coaches went as far as telling me I would never play college soccer because of my size. Well, my senior year I was awarded all-conference and had accepted a good-size scholarship to play at an NAIA school. I was proud that I had proved my coach wrong and even more excited to be fulfilling my dream of playing college soccer.

That’s when things went south for me. I spent my freshmen year red-shirted so that I could get into better shape. I understood that. I knew I was not in great shape. I spent that year going to training, cheering on my teammates at games, and working out in the gym. By the time sophomore year came around, I was in the best shape of my life. I could run further and lift more. I felt great about the progress I had made. Despite that, I hadn’t lost much weight. I figured that shouldn’t matter. I was in better shape! I had done what I had set out to do . . .

But none of that mattered. My sophomore year was spent being told that I still needed to lose weight. I still wasn’t good enough. I was in better shape, but all my coach could see was a fat goalkeeper. I was even told that, despite being in the gym at least an hour most days on top of training and school, I was not trying hard enough. One away game I was told not to come because I was not putting in enough effort. I couldn’t take it anymore.

After my sophomore year, I quit the sport I love at 260 pounds with no self-esteem and clinical depression. Do I blame my coach? No, but the experience I had was a major contributor. I don’t want pity. I already got help. I want to share my story so that others who have gone through this know that they aren’t alone. I want to share my story so that coaches can see what an impact they can have on a life. There’s a way to approach a player about their physical condition, and calling them fat and telling them to lose weight is not the way to do it. It didn’t motivate me, and It definitely didn’t make me better.

So, to those who have gone through what I have: Be brave and be strong. All you can do is your best, and, if that's not enough, then maybe you're not the problem.

To coaches: Know that what you say and do can impact a player for life. Know that how you say and do things can make that impact even better or worse. Also, just because someone is not skinny does not necessarily mean they can't compete. It also doesn't mean that they aren't trying to better themselves. Look past their weight! Watch their progress, not the scale.