“I Didn’t Just Quit the Team. I Lost a Part of Myself.”
It had been three days since I told Coach I was done.
I thought I’d feel lighter—relieved, even. But the truth was, I felt sick. Not because I regretted it. I knew in my heart it was the right thing to do.
I was just scared of what came next.
I kept thinking about what people would say. About how I’d walk down the hallway and pass my teammates. Would they look at me differently? Would they think I gave up?
I had played basketball since I was six. Travel leagues, late-night practices, summer camps, the whole thing. It wasn’t just a sport. It was my thing. My schedule, my social circle, my identity.
And then suddenly, it wasn’t.
Why I quit
It didn’t happen all at once.
At first, I started dreading practice. Then came the pressure to perform perfectly. The feeling of being constantly watched. The injuries that didn’t fully heal. The panic attacks before games I told no one about.
But the part that finally broke me? I didn’t recognize myself anymore. The sport I once loved felt like a cage.
I didn’t hate my team. I didn’t hate my coach. I just didn’t want to do it anymore.
And that was terrifying.
Because quitting felt like failing. It felt like disappointing everyone. It felt like erasing a part of me that everyone else had already memorized.
The hard part isn’t quitting—it’s after
No one tells you how weird it feels to go from “team captain” to “former player.”
Or how awkward it is to show up at school the next day and run into your coach in the hallway, pretending like nothing happened.
Or how people say, “Wait, you’re not playing this year?” and you have to come up with an explanation that won’t make them feel sorry for you—or worse, judge you.
I remember sitting alone during lunch one day because my usual group was at practice. I kept refreshing my phone, waiting for someone to text and ask how I was doing.
No one did.
It wasn’t because they didn’t care. They were just… busy. Still in that world. And I wasn’t anymore.
What helped me get through it
- I let myself grieve
Quitting something you loved isn’t weak. It’s loss. It’s okay to miss it, even if you’re sure you made the right decision. - I stopped rehearsing my “speech”
I used to practice what I’d say if someone asked why I quit. Eventually, I stopped explaining myself. I just started telling the truth: “It wasn’t working for me anymore.” - I stayed connected—on my terms
I didn’t ghost my teammates. I still showed up to a few games as a fan. I still said hey in the hallway. But I also gave myself permission to create new circles. - I reminded myself I’m more than my jersey
I started writing. I joined the photography club. I rediscovered that I had other things to offer outside a soccer field. - I talked to someone
One day I stayed after class and told a teacher what I was feeling. She looked me in the eye and said, “You didn’t quit. You listened to yourself.” I think I’ll remember that forever.
If you’re here too…
If you’ve left a sport or activity that used to be your everything, you’re allowed to feel sad. You’re allowed to feel lost. And you’re allowed to feel relieved too.
Let it all be true.
You didn’t disappoint anyone by choosing your mental health. You didn’t throw away your hard work. You didn’t lose your worth.
You simply grew in a different direction.
And guess what? That takes more strength than staying just to make everyone else comfortable.
Are you addicted? Are you under stress? Need to talk to someone? Text “HELLO” to 741741 or visit Crisis Text Line. Trained crisis counselors are available 24/7 to help you with your stress.
