Flashback to my senior year in high school. All I could think about was continuing my lacrosse career throughout college. I couldn’t wait to prance around in that college uniform letting everyone know who I was and what I did on the field. My coach and parents were so proud of me, and that helped me sleep at night. But what did keep me from shutting my eyes every night was the same question: “Can I actually do this?” Soon that question would be answered, but not in the way I expected.

College athletics are very time demanding; they don’t stop in the offseason, and it was definitely something I wasn’t used to. I would go to class at 9:30 a.m., and all I yearned to do after was sleep in my bed and wonder what I would do tomorrow. Sports didn’t allow that. I was wanted at lifting right after class, then at practice not even five minutes after that. By the time I got back to my dorm I needed to write essays, finish my algebra problem I left blank the night before and visit my boyfriend so I could keep our relationship healthy. By the time I had the chance to shut my eyes, my alarm clock was already buzzing for my next class…

I heard so many times before that college is the best four years of your life, but I couldn’t stop thinking about when it was going to get better for me. I couldn’t make friends on or off the field, and if I did I was too tired and stressed out to keep them going. Everyone around me was making tons and tons of friends, even my boyfriend who I considered my only friend the first month of school. I couldn’t help but call my mom up and cry repeating the words, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this,” which would instantly break her heart.

I was prepared for this five months ago… what happened? I remember sitting in my coach’s room saying, “I can do this. I’ll be fine,” and now it was the complete opposite. Two weeks in, I had my breaking point…

I quit.

The moment I walked out of my college coach’s room I broke down, but never let anyone know it. I was saying goodbye to the sport that kept me sane through five years of my life. I was saying goodbye to all the hard work and practice I put in during those five years. I couldn’t help but feel that I not only cheated my parents, but I cheated my high school coach.

Why? Because she put in the extra effort to call the college coaches for me. To make sure I was in it for the long run, no matter what happened. But I wasn’t, being a collegiate athlete was far from my abilities. I’ve never felt so numb, so useless until this moment. My biggest fear was regret, and I now the question that kept me up at night was: “Will I regret this decision?”

Fast forward to two weeks later, my roommate said that I was “a whole new person.” She hadn’t seen me smile this much since before we moved in. I finally got my work done, actually before the due dates. I’m meeting so many more people, and more opportunities have opened for me — opportunities for things that I love doing like writing and teaching. I was finally the person I wanted college to shape me into. It just makes me more excited for the new exciting opportunities that’ll come in the next three years.

My advice for you, if you’re thinking about committing to the college of your choice for a sport:

Don’t commit to something you really don’t love with your whole entire heart; don’t commit to something that you can’t see yourself continuing after college. Most of all, don’t commit if you’re up every single night asking yourself if you’re capable of such thing — most likely when you get into college, you’ll lose sleep at night thinking about what other worthwhile things would be open for you if you hadn’t of committed.

Commit if you can make the sport your priority, understand that your teammates will be your best friends. Commit if you can take that every weekend will not be made for a party instead extra hours on the field. Understand that some rainy afternoons while you watch your roommate sleeping in your dorm, you’ll be on the field with your teammates. It takes courage, motivation and the ability to never settle for less.