Soccer has been a constant in my life for as long as I can remember. The carpools, road trips, long practices and intense games have shaped who I am and who I will become. But at what cost? The late-night practices, the out-of-state tournaments, the physical toll on my body — was it all worth it?

For the past decade, I believed it was. Soccer was all I knew. But now, as a senior with the better part of my athletic career behind me, I find myself questioning my decision to keep playing. Most of my teammates are preparing to play in college, but not me. So why am I still here? Why am I still giving up my time?

That question lingered in my mind for a long time, and even now, I still wrestle with the answer. From where I see it, there are two perspectives. One tells me to walk away — spend more time with friends, play pickup basketball at the gym, watch movies, go out, and just enjoy what’s left of high school. The other side reminds me of everything I’ve poured into this sport. Soccer has been more than a game; it’s been a commitment to a team, a club, and a community that has helped me grow, learn, and excel. How do I just leave that behind?

Senior year has a way of making you feel like you’ve earned the right to take it easy. You’ve put in the work, gotten into college, and the finish line is in sight. It would be so easy to just phone it in. But for athletes, walking away isn’t that simple. The sport that has structured my life for so long won’t be there next year. What happens then? What if I lose that sense of direction? Maybe that’s why I need to keep playing — for the structure, the discipline, the familiarity of knowing that practice is on Wednesday night and fitness is on Sunday morning.

But is it worth it?

Over the years, the joy of playing has been overshadowed by competition and expectations. Teammates and coaches push the idea that success means playing Division I soccer or joining the most elite leagues. Youth sports become more like a business, where roster spots, playing time and game readiness dictate everything. But I wasn’t staying for pride or to prove anything to anyone. I stayed because, at the core of it all, I love the game. Somewhere in that pressure, I lost sight of why I started playing in the first place.

As you get older, the sport you love starts to feel like a job — even at the youth level. It feels like you’re going to work every day, the pressure to perform, to earn a roster spot, to constantly prove yourself, can overshadow the joy of simply playing. I had to step back and look at the bigger picture. Would I miss the stress of game day nerves or the physical beating on the field? Probably not. But would I miss the game itself? Absolutely.

I chose to keep playing, but not for the reasons I once did. It wasn’t about competition, college recruitment, or proving anything to anyone — not even myself. Maybe I’m still figuring it out. Maybe I just wasn’t ready to walk away yet.

I know the end is coming sooner than I’d like. But for now, I’m still here — showing up to practice, lacing up my cleats, stepping onto the field. Some days, I wonder if I made the right choice. Other days, I know I did.

I don’t know how I’ll feel when the season ends. Maybe I’ll be relieved, maybe I’ll miss it more than I can imagine. But for now, I’m choosing to play, not because I have to, but because I still want to. And maybe, for now, that’s enough.