Growing Pains – The Deets on Why I Quit Volleyball

Let me paint the picture for you…

Young Mack is born into a family where volleyball is prevalent, with a big sis playing high school volleyball, a dad coaching club teams off and on, and two parents who had played the sport themselves as young adults (insert picture of Mom wearing obnoxiously large kneepads). Always wanting to be like her big sis, she was over the moon at her first club practice in fourth grade when her sister was her coach! Could it get any better than this?!

*Spoiler alert* It does indeed get better. And then worse.

From the get-go, I was obsessed with volleyball. I wanted to play ALL.THE.TIME. and I even subjected my poor mom to playing with me in the driveway, of course making her chase the ball into the street (added exercise right?). Flash forward to junior high. Still obsessed, but rightly so- I was having so much fun!!! I looked forward to the weekend club tournaments because that meant playing two days in a row and spending time with some of my best friends. If we were lucky, our parents would get a hotel room and the four of us could have a sleepover! Those were definitely my most pure memories of volleyball. I’m a very sentimental person, so I’d always try to savor those moments before they ended because I knew that someday I’d never experience hotel sleepovers with a looming early morning tournament. Though I never played club with my friends again, we did have our final hotel sleepover, and I could not have asked to have a better end. Very symbolic if you ask me.

Anyways, I survived my first week of double days as a freshman in high school. Freshman year brought the first heartbreak I experienced in volleyball because I didn’t earn a Varsity letter like my friends. Nonetheless, I gathered myself for my sophomore season and actually earned a Varsity letter (and the spot as the Libero, I loved it)! For the third year in a row, my high school program lost in Semi-State. I bawled when the final point dropped in the 5th set. 15-13, it really doesn’t get much worse than that in a volleyball match. BUT that experience ignited my passion for the sport and I decided that I wanted to play in college!!! Yayyyy! So I tried out for Munciana, perhaps the most elite club volleyball program in the nation. I made the 4’s team, and eventually hated my life the whole season because of the long drives, late nights, and the fact that I made like no friends. On the plus side, my mom brought me Chick-fil-A after practice 🙂 (thanks mom!). Add in the fact that my coach was arrested a few months after the season ended at Nationals and you could see where I’m coming from.

Junior year was probably the most fun high school season because there was absolutely no drama (okay there was, but it didn’t affect the team). The atmosphere at practice was so chill and I was loving it! We won regionals and were thrown into a one game Semi-State where we imploded horrendously. Like embarrassingly awful! It was really discouraging to win Regionals for four years in a row and never get over the hump. I played at a different club my junior year, CIViC. My dad coached for CIViC when I was younger, and my sister played for them. Also, my dad has always been great friends with the coaches – and for good reason. Seriously, they are some of the best people I’ve ever met. They have helped me immensely, and I am ever so grateful for them! The season was okay, but I knew something was wrong with me. I started to resent practices and tournaments, much like I did at Munciana but not to the same degree. I was also running track at the time, like always, so I’d have something going on 7 days a week, this leasing to my slow burnout on volleyball. CIViC has produced some great college players, two of which were on my team. Still, I felt the need to fulfill my dream of playing college volleyball and I knew my coaches could get me to the next level.

FINALLY GETTING TO THE JIST OF THINGS

AHHH MY SENIOR SEASON!!!! I dreaded my last year of Pioneer volleyball, but also relished in it. I wanted to soak up every moment spent in the program that I love(d). To be honest, it was nothing like I had imagined. Our team, especially the seniors and the coaches, dreamed to finally make it to the state championship. Our coach, perhaps one of the best in the state, made sure we knew how capable we were of reaching our goal. Soon, things started to crumble. I was so excited for my final season, but nothing seemed to be going right. Our team was underperforming, there was so much pressure placed on the seniors to lead and basically win the games to get us to state, along with schoolwork and scholarship applications (I was applying for the Lily, stressed me out) it ate me up throughout the season until I realized volleyball wasn’t FUN anymore. I finally cracked like an egg on my senior night. Deep down, I knew that I wasn’t happy with volleyball, but I pushed that thought away because I thought I HAD to love volleyball and never have bad feelings towards the sport because that’s just not who I have ever been.

Growth is painful. Change is painful. But nothing is as painful as staying somewhere you don’t belong.

I remember running to the locker room after a discussion with my coach where he told me that I didn’t seem like myself, and that I didn’t seem to love volleyball anymore which was weird because he had always known how passionate I was. Hearing the words aloud struck me in an indescribable way, and I stood rooted to the spot and shook my head with tears in my eyes. I remember running the the locker room, bawling my eyeballs out, wondering what was wrong with me as my teammates and family schmoozed over cake and punch. It sounds very dramatic, but my dad can attest to this rather embarrassing moment. He knocked on the door, and told me to come out. I remember thinking “Are you serious right now? Not in the mood to talk right now DAD!” I went out anyways, puffy eyes and all.

We talked and talked and talked for what seemed like forever. My dad has never been one to talk about my feelings with me, that has always been a “Mom-job”, but it’s actually one of my favorite memories now. I expressed my emotions towards volleyball, describing how I didn’t even want to play anymore, how I dreaded so many upcoming games and practices because I knew we would most likely make a deep tournament run again. Instead of squashing my feelings with a “suck it up, buttercup”, my dad cried with me. WHAT! (If you’re reading this, sorry about your soiled manhood Dad) I don’t remember his exact words, but he emphasized the importance for me to have fun and enjoy the last bits of my senior year of Pioneer volleyball-after all, I had just played my last regular season game on our home court. Concerning my college career, my dad said that he didn’t care whether I played in college, he just wanted me to be happy. BUT he did express his trepidation towards me quitting because he didn’t want me to regret my decision and always have the “What if’s”. Quickly, my mindset did a somersault and I was ready to go for post-season!!! AND COLLEGE VB!!!!

*Spoiler alert* PHSVB finally made it to state. We lost BUT WE MADE IT!!!!

So yeah we lost, but I had so much fun! The “Core Four” (above) stayed in the same hotel room and had our final sleepover with the biggest game of our lives the next morning. It was a night full of uncontrollable cackles, failed Polaroids, and long talks. I couldn’t have asked for better.

If anyone is still reading by this point, shoutout to you because I ramble a lot but this is my blog so 👋🏻. But I’m finally making my point, if anyone cares. Soooo after a 2 month hiatus from volleyball, I registered for my second and final season with CIViC. I have always lived a very busy life, and senior year was no different. I had not sat down on my living room couch to watch TV with my parents prior to this nice break. Starting in my sophomore year, I became hesitant about playing in college because I was getting so burnt out so quickly. It seemed to progress each season. It reached its peak when I was supposed to go to my second club practice during senior year and I was dreading it. I had major anxiety about going, not because I was unfamiliar with my new team or anything, but because I dreaded the routine and knew I would resent games and practices throughout the season. I considered what my life would be like if I played in college. I pictured myself overwhelmed and just not happy with my life anymore. I knew something was wrong, but I squished the feeling down and tried not to touch it. I feared changing myself. I feared what my life would be like if I actually quit. Would I regret my decision to no end? Would I feel disappointed in myself? Oh no, what about my coaches and my parents?! They had put so much effort and time into helping me, and now I wanted to let them down? No way, girl! I was at constant war with myself for a few days, I was so anxious and the thoughts running through my mind were taking a toll on my body. I had trouble focusing, and I eventually enlisted the help of my mom. Through sobs, I told her my issues, volleyball along with stress, etc., and we talked for TWO AND A HALF HOURS!!! I made the decision that night that I was going to quit. I didn’t find joy in volleyball like I used to, and I wanted to experience new things, something that would be incredibly difficult as a student-athlete. I felt relieved after making my decision, but I wondered who I would be if I didn’t have the label “Student-Athlete” anymore.

I had a similar talk with my dad, although much shorter, but yes tears were involved again. To my relief, my dad was not upset or angry and he supported me 100%. Still, he brought up the possibility of potential regrets, as if the “What-If’s” weren’t already haunting me. I went back to my room and gathered myself. Now I had to call my coaches. I called my head coach, one of the sweetest ladies I’ve ever met, first. After explain to her my reasons for quitting, she said to me after a pause, “Then you’re quitting for the right reasons.” We had a great chat about growing up and making difficult decisions. Next, I called my assistant club coach, whom I was equally fond of. I thought she was rather shocked, and a later text served as evidence for that fact. She seemed genuinely upset, which meant a lot that she would be affected by my absence. (C, if you’re reading this we gotta plan our reunion!)

Almost a week after my decision, I can say that I made the right choice. I feel relieved. The “What-If’s” will always be there, but I made my decision and I am confident in it. There’s no way that I would have mentally thrived during a season of college volleyball so there was no point in playing club. I am excited for my future now! I know that there is more to life than volleyball, and I know that I can thrive in other ways than playing volleyball. Volleyball has gifted me with some amazing friends, memories, and skills, and I do not want to imagine what my life would have been like if I were not born into a volleyball-centered family.

SMELL YA LATER

MACK 🙂