Everyone grows up with hopes and dreams of being someone great or doing something unforgettable.
Ever since I was a little girl, my number one goal was to earn a scholarship to play basketball in college. I was willing to do whatever it took: extra hours in the gym, weekends, sometimes week-long basketball tournaments, countless dollar amounts spent on traveling and on the best AAU programs. Not to mention, the actual blood, sweat, and tears that were to come. I lived for the game. Basketball was the only thing ever on my mind.
My dad was always my biggest supporter and helped me visualize my goals by taping LeBron James quotes on my door and post-it notes on my mirrors.
Elementary school and into middle school were my glory days. I could not wait to become a Lady Volunteer one day and play for the legendary Pat Summitt; however, once I stopped growing and my speed became average, I slowly started to reconsider my options.
Going into high school, I was handed the shaft. Although playing time for a freshman on varsity at a D1 high school was uncommon, my reasonable expectations were not met. My freshman year was miserable, but only motivated me to get better in the offseason.
Coming into my sophomore year, I had packed on some muscle and earned a starting spot on varsity and was a captain. The last three years of high school were, for the most part, an absolute blast.
As the recruiting period rolled around the corner, I had decided I did not want to go to school too far from home. I had achieved my ultimate goal of earning a scholarship to a small NAIA Division II team in Milwaukee, WI. My family was beyond excited for me to start a new journey.
Shortly after arriving to school, I began to reconsider my options. Leaving a sick relative, family complications, relationships ending, and a brother starting high school back home left me wondering if I had made the right choice for the right reasons. Had I decided to play basketball for myself, or to please everyone who was so proud of me? Even though I was only three hours from home, the demanding time commitment which a college athlete is expected to make kept me from being able to be home with my struggling family.
My biggest fear was to disappoint my number one fan, my dad. There was no easy way to tell him that I was deviating from my life-long goal. Thankfully, my dad assured me that he would be proud of me no matter what I decided. I think our relationship may have even gotten stronger after this year.
My first semester of college was an extremely rough transition; however, made me realize that life is short. Although I love the game of basketball, it does not define me.
What I am trying to say is people change and that is OK. Your family will love you and support anything that makes you happy. Finding who you are supposed to be in this world is part of life. Something that was once your biggest dream ever, could one day not even be a dream at all.
The grass is not always greener on the other side. And life goes on.
