I have been torn apart by coaches before. I have left the gym in heartbreak knowing I did not perform to a standard. But, other times, I left that gym beaming with pride, sweat dripping down my face, knowing I left everything on the court. It started in 5th grade, my passion, and it skyrocketed from there. Every weekend and most weekdays were spent in the gym, then at tournaments, then in different cities, then in strange states. I lived for the rush of sliding across floors and feeling the sting on my legs. I lived for the balls slamming against my forearms, and my palm burning red from the hundreds of times I slammed the ball over the net. My freshman year impacted me in ways I will never forget. I was pushed past all of my limits. I felt on top of the world, even in my sweaty high school gym. That winter I truly discovered that there was something special about me. I played like I had never played before.. there was a fire inside of me. I looked forward to practice, I made friends for life, and I put my whole being into this; I knew it was my future.

Have Your Voice Heard: Become an Odyssey Creator

Dreams of running a college court and being at an elite level danced around my mind every waking hour. Those two coaches I had at the time of my life when everything was changing made me feel stable, and at home in those gyms. The next year came, and it was a complete 360. The fire inside me was slowly flickering out. I felt like I was listening to my favorite song but did not recognize the lyrics; but those lyrics were myself. The tears and questioning of myself was constant. What was wrong with me? Was I kidding myself? Have these past 6 years been a waste? What was I playing for anymore? I felt defeated, and deflated, and I no longer felt the rush. I stepped away from the thing I loved most with a heavy heart and burning tears, but the lessons all of those years taught me will stick with me in my core. Moving on is so impactful.

Sometimes you will think back to those days and how in love you were with those late nights and early mornings. How gatorade was probably running through your veins, and that feeling of your heart racing and your body subconsciously doing things you never thought it was capable of. The pain of sinking into a bath after a long practice, and finding humor in the darkened skin on your legs and arms from the interminable bruises. And your teammates. Those girls will be a part of you forever, because they experienced the same pain, and the same joy, and the same disappointment. They lifted you up and made you laugh, even when your arms felt weak and you were two drills away from passing out. Experiencing this made me wiser. It made me realize that dreams come and go, but the way they impact the rest of your life is what truly matters. I am complete, even without the game that used to complete me.