I was a basketball player. Even now, it’s difficult to write “was,” instead of “is.” I loved basketball, but I don’t love it anymore.

I respect the game that I have given so much to, and that has given me so much more in return. Basketball will always be a part of me but it will never be current. Instead, it is now just memories.

I wish more than anything that I could love basketball like I did when I was little. In elementary school, I was just happy to be running around and playing with my friends. In middle school, I was excited to learn new moves and perfect my shot.

When high school came around and the world seemed to become a lot more chaotic, basketball remained a constant in my life. I knew that even if I did poorly on a test or my best friend wasn’t talking to me or I was angry with my parents, as soon as I got to practice, it wouldn’t matter.

Basketball was simple, which made life a little simpler.

When I decided to play basketball in college, I was ecstatic that I was going to have four more years with the sport I loved. The countless rolled ankles, black eyes, and jammed fingers (or broken fingers) seemed to be worth it because I was going to play collegiate basketball.

I also felt as though the support I received over the years was finally validated. My coaches had spent hundreds of hours working with me at the gym. They believed in me even when I didn’t deserve it. My parents came to nearly every game and would drive hours to watch me play and then drive back happily.

When I complained to them about how frustrated I was about practice a certain day, my parents listened and encouraged me. I wanted to make the people who believed in me proud.

I had doubts about basketball going into college but I thought they were just normal nerves. I expected them to disappear as soon as our season began. They didn’t.

At some point over the past year basketball shifted away from the sport I loved. It wasn’t simple. It wasn’t distracting. It wasn’t even fun. Of course, no sport is enjoyable all the time. There is an immense amount of hard work and focus that is needed in basketball, but that wasn’t the issue for me because I had been giving my all to basketball for years.

I know how to work hard. The bigger issue for me was my health. I felt like I was paralyzed by the sport that had once made me feel free. I stopped enjoying little things in life. It took a lot more effort for me to smile.

I became anxious -- even to the point of being physically ill when I thought about basketball. Looking back, I think this was my gut trying to guide me.

As much as I tried, I didn’t feel the same way about basketball that I once did. I knew that I was unhappy, but I was unsure how to portray these emotions to my parents, my family, my friends, my former teammates, and my coaches.

I feared that they would view me as weak, as a quitter. The possibility of disappointing these people that I care so much about became the hardest part of my decision to leave basketball.

Ultimately, I came to the realization that I would be letting them down even more if I pretended that I was happy when I actually wasn’t.

It took me a long time to realize that these feelings were okay. People change. Our interests change. Life changes and that’s whats so great about it. No, I’m not a basketball player anymore, but I’m also not the same person I was before.