Leaving The End Line

As I stood on the end line, I took in everything around me. The noisy gym was filled with the sounds of shoes squeaking, teenage girls yelling for the ball, and whistles. For the first time, I enjoyed the stuffy heat of the gym, the jersey sticking to my skin, and the constant loudness. It was at this moment that I realized I didn't want to let go yet. I gave it my all, not knowing that this would be the last game of my entire volleyball career.

Volleyball almost felt like a reward to me. To this day, I don't think anything can compare to the feeling of getting a good dig or making a perfect set. The feeling of the ball hitting my forearms at the perfect angle or throwing my body across the court to make a good save was something I always cherished. Although the community was amazing, nothing beat the joy I felt when I was on the court playing.

After a long day of school, volleyball practice with my teammates was what I looked forward to. The bond I had with my team was irreplaceable. It took months for me to grow close to my club team, but looking back now, I'm more than grateful for all the amazing times I had with them. We spent late nights in our hotel rooms together, woke up at the crack of dawn to play, ran lines during practice, and, most importantly, won together. Every aspect of volleyball allowed me to grow into a stronger person and develop more self-confidence.

The notification from Instagram made my heart drop. Through my friends on varsity and connections with the recruiting coaches, I found out that I hadn't made varsity and had been cut from the program. When I first found out, I didn't cry. I put my phone down and slept for hours. When I woke up, fear began to creep in as I opened my emails. There, I saw the long paragraph my coach had written. As I read the email, I realized that she had written it specifically for me. It wasn't the default email that everyone else who had been cut received. She had written, word for word, how difficult it was for her to let me go without giving me another opportunity.

I forced myself to congratulate my friends who had made the team. I thought about it over and over again. What did I do wrong? Was I inconsistent compared to others? Did I have bad form? I compared myself to my friends who had advanced from JV to varsity. Although I was genuinely happy for them, I couldn't stop myself from growing insecure about my skills.

If I had been able to quit volleyball of my own free will, I would have preferred that over being forced to quit while still having so much love for the sport. The love I had for volleyball back then remains in me today. It's a bittersweet goodbye, but it's better to have loved something than to have never experienced it at all.

I look back at clips of games I played for both club and school. I miss every single thing about the sport to this day. I miss the small huddles we had as a team, complimenting each other's previous plays or discussing what we needed to fix. I miss the feeling of putting on my knee pads and elbow pads to warm up for a game. I miss the anxiety of wondering whether I would play libero that day and the adrenaline running through my body as I ran and dove across the court. I miss it all.

A few days ago, I made a TikTok with clips from my games, moments with my teammates, and pictures of us getting dinner after going undefeated. I finally understood what it meant to be heartbroken. My heart ached as I watched the amazing memories I had made through the sport. My heart continues to ache as I write this today. When I think about how my club team eventually went our separate ways, I can't help but wish I could start all over again. Wishing for the chance to start over is a big commitment, but I would do it over and over again for volleyball.

At the end of the day, every experience in life comes with its own pros and cons. Even though I still miss the sport, it took up so much of my time and energy. As a student-athlete, I would come home after an intense practice and force myself to study for hours afterward. These days, I have so much more time on my hands. For the first time in years, I don't have to worry about bringing my volleyball backpack to school!

Additionally, volleyball tested my mental strength in many ways. As a libero on a national-level team, I was always competing for the libero jersey and fighting for playing time. The worst part of volleyball was getting pulled off the court after making one mistake and not being given another opportunity to show my best skills.

Every single day, I compared myself to the other libero on my team. I grew increasingly insecure about my skills and myself as a player. Although it was difficult for me to be content with my abilities, the experience helped me become stronger and more disciplined. I learned how to recognize my weaknesses and work on them, even when doing so was uncomfortable.

Looking back, I now carry so much of the character that volleyball helped shape within me. I have become a more disciplined person. Volleyball required a great deal of discipline and self-reflection. To correct a habit, I had to challenge myself mentally and do things I wasn't comfortable with. Even though I no longer play, I still carry those lessons with me in other aspects of my life.

Even to this day, there are so many friendships I cherish that began through volleyball. My volleyball friends and I bonded closely through the difficult moments we experienced together, whether that meant getting in trouble with our coaches, running lines during practice, or going to tryouts together. I hold these friendships close to my heart because they remind me of the memories and experiences volleyball gave me.

I look back at the great times I had, and I look ahead at what's in front of me, and I realize that there is still so much waiting for me in life. Unfortunately, I haven't had the chance to play since then, but if I get the opportunity, I would love to play casually again. Volleyball may no longer be a part of my life, but I still carry the lessons I learned with me. I am beginning to understand that rejection can lead us toward opportunities we may never have considered otherwise.

As I think back to the last time I stood on that end line, I remember how much I wanted to hold on. I wasn't ready for the final whistle, and a part of me still isn't. But even though my volleyball career ended differently than I had hoped, the memories, friendships, and lessons I gained from the sport will always remain with me. The final whistle may have marked the end of my time on the court, but it doesn't mean the end of everything volleyball taught me.