In my family, my siblings and I could kick a ball as soon as we could walk. We grew up on the pitch, whether it be five minutes away from our childhood home, or hours away in Arizona. Soccer was our whole life, my whole life especially. It seemed to me like soccer was my thing. I tried sports like basketball and skiing, but nothing was more exciting than watching soccer season approach every year for fifteen years. I had dreams of growing up to play on the US Women's National team, just like every other little girl who played soccer. I had my fair share of uniforms from past teams and memories made with longtime teammates that will last for ages. But soon my love for playing started to shrink.
Don't get me wrong, I still get excited thinking of the times I would sprint up the field with the ball, make plays for my teammates, and score goals. It's an excitement I hopefully won't forget anytime soon. I still love the game. I don't quite understand it myself, but I just feel done with the sport. I want to experience other dreams I've had, like career plans.
