Throughout my life, I had never quit one thing. Not one single thing. Sure, I stopped doing certain sports and activities because of lack of time or money, but those faded away over time. Before the summer after my junior year, I have never had to say the words "I quit."

It wasn't even in my vocabulary because my parents raised me to finish things once I started them. So there was no "quitting."

But things can change. And some of us just aren't cut out for certain things. I was more than willing to accept this fact, but it was the timing of it all that made me struggle the most.

I started playing basketball when I was in third grade. I started off playing recreationally like most kids, but by halfway through fourth grade, my parents signed me up for the travel league in my town. I played with them until I aged out at the end of eighth grade. I played for my middle school team, for my high school JV team in my freshman year, and then the varsity team for two years after that.

Was I good? Not specifically. Sure, I had some talent, but I was nothing special. It was just the talent that comes with playing the same sport for nine years.

Now, some of the girls on my team, they were special. I had been playing with the same girls since I started travel basketball back in fourth grade and we played and grew up together. They had futures. I was just me: playing for fun and waiting for track season to start. But I was still committed to my team. That was until I could feel my love for the game start to slip away.

One of the major reasons I started to like the game less and less was because of my coach. He was a decent guy, empathetic when he needed to be, inspiring when he had to be. But he had a short temper and constantly played favorites, and guess who wasn't one of those favorites.

Yup, you guessed it.

That didn't bother me, though. What bothered me was the empty promises he made. For two seasons in a row, he promised me a place in the starting five as long as I kept working hard, and I did because I wanted it so bad. But during both of those seasons, without fail, he replaced me with someone else and left me to sit on the bench. He took me out of the game when I made the tiniest mistakes. He made it clear that I was expendable.

After sitting the bench for entire games, I started losing any joy of going to practice. I would get a pit in my stomach from just thinking about it. I knew I wasn't needed or even really wanted on the team.

For nearly a year, I wrestled with my thoughts about quitting. I just wanted to stick it out to the end of my senior year and say that I did it, but my heart was somewhere else. I wasn't happy. I knew my time would be better spent in winter track, where my skills were wanted and needed. I talked to my dad about it constantly, seeking his opinion, but he just let me know that he would support me no matter what.

I wasn't a quitter, but I did just that.

The summer before my senior year, I approached my basketball coach and told him my decision. I was expecting a heavy goodbye and a "sorry to see you go", but I got quite the opposite. He began yelling at me, telling me that my unhappiness was my own fault and that it stops being fun when I stop putting in the work. He accused me of going to track for the money and then ended the conversation with "maybe you'll come to your senses".

And that's when I knew I made the right choice. I miss playing the game, but I have never once regretted quitting that team.

For so long, I was afraid that quitting made me look weak and uncommitted. But I learned that life is too short to be unhappy, that you should always do the things you love and stop doing the things you don't. In a way, I should thank my old coach for helping me "come to my senses" and prioritize my own happiness before anything else. Without him ruining the game for me, I wouldn't be where I am today.

This taught me that quitting is not necessarily a bad thing, especially if you're concerning yourself with personal happiness. I wouldn't recommend quitting everything without giving it a chance first, but if you weigh the options and find that you would be better off on the other side of things, don't be afraid to quit!