When I was 16 years old, I was told that I would never play volleyball again. I had just undergone an MRI and the results came back saying I had a bi-later stress fracture in my spine at L4. I could barely walk. I had constant pain shooting down my spine and even just sitting was unbearable. But I had gone to the doctor's in search of a cure, not to hear the worst news I could have imagined.

Volleyball was my life. It had been since I was nine years old. I was the starting setter on a nationally ranked team. We had goals of winning qualifiers that year and making a huge statement at nationals. My best friends, who I had been playing with since I was twelve, were counting on me. I had dreams of playing at the Division I level. I had put in countless hours on and off the court to attain that goal. And now, out of nowhere, I was being told that I would never get to step foot on a volleyball court again. Saying I was devastated would be an understatement. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t breathe, I didn’t know what to do. I vaguely heard my mother speaking to the doctor; she explained my dreams of Division I, what the sport meant to me, everything. And his response? “You’re gonna have to get used to being disappointed in life. This won’t be the first time you’re faced with something like this.” Great advice.

I refused to let him be right. I went to physical therapy three times a week, took a few months off of volleyball, and worked harder than I ever had to ensure that I would get to play again. And I did. My physical therapist, a different doctor than the one who said I would never play again, warned me that I shouldn’t go back until I had taken at least eight months off. She said the consequences could be as severe as paralysis, but more likely that I would be wearing a permanent brace for the rest of my life. But volleyball was the most important thing to me at the time and it was all I could think about. Besides, I felt great. After only three months, I went back to practice, and a week later we were at a qualifier. I had an athletic back brace that I wore when I played and I went through the tournament pain-free. And the best part, we ended up winning. We had accomplished one of our biggest goals — winning a national qualifier. I was back playing the sport I loved, we were champions, and we had earned our bid at nationals. I could not have been happier.

Fast forward to this year, my freshman year of college. I had reached another one of my biggest goals- I was playing Division I volleyball. My back pain had been sporadic and occurred with varying degrees of pain since I returned to playing at sixteen, but it never got to be as bad as it originally was. I played through the pain regardless of how bad it got to be. And then I got to school. Pre-season consisted of two three-hour practices every day, with an hour of lift every other day, for about three weeks straight. Then once classes began, it was a three-hour practice every day accompanied by one game during the week and usually three games on the weekends. My back started flaring up more often than usual, but I played without mentioning it. Besides, I was dealing with enough injuries at the time anyways.

Once the season ended and we began heavy lifting again, it really got bad. But I pushed through it because it was still tolerable. But that was when I realized that I had a completely different mindset than I had when I was sixteen. Volleyball was no longer the most important thing in the world to me. Not being able to play didn’t sound like the absolute end of the world. I realized that I had put myself at a lot of risk by coming back to the sport too soon. If I was going to take time off this time, I would not be eager to come back. I would actually probably not want to come back. My entire perspective had changed. Volleyball was no longer my life. Instead, it was holding me back from it. After a year playing Division I, I realized that I was not the same girl with the dream of playing at that level. I have other dreams now. Dreams that I could not reach if I continued to play volleyball; a sport that I honestly do not love anymore. I love it for the friends it has made me, the places it has brought me to, and the opportunities I have been afforded as a result of it. But I do not love playing anymore. It became a chore, something I was being forced to do because I knew it was what was expected of me. But I wanted to take control over my life, so I did. And that is why I am no longer playing volleyball.

I plan to do the things I actually want now. I was not going to go on and play professional volleyball, it was not going to be a part of my career, and it was not going to help me accomplish the new goals I have set for myself. I want to become fluent in Spanish and as many other languages as possible. I want to live and study abroad as often as I can. I want to live my life without it being dictated by other people telling me where I have to be, how I need to dress, what I can and cannot eat, and who I should be spending my time with. I was so out of control of my own life this past year that it did not even feel like it belonged to me. None of my decisions felt like they were my own because many of them weren’t.

So thank you, volleyball, for all of the life lessons you have taught me, the tough skin I have developed from getting yelled at by coaches, the amazing friends I have made and the cities you have brought me to. I do not regret a single second playing, but if I continued any longer I would regret every second here on out. I refuse to waste my time just going through the motions to make other people happy. You can criticize my decision all you would like, but it's my life. I suggest you take a look at your own.