For as long as I can remember, I’ve always felt different. It wasn’t until my senior year of high school, however, that I received the closure of a diagnosis. It took a while for doctors and professionals to take me seriously, as I presented as a happy and confident teenager, how could I possibly be dying inside? I became adept at hiding my struggles, with practice comes perfection, and I would only let those close to me know how I truly felt inside.

Perfection is a funny thing. It’s claimed that perfection doesn’t exist, yet there is a word for it. You would think that means one can be perfect. At least that’s what I believed, and that’s what I aspired to be. I wanted to be the perfect athlete, the perfect teammate, the best of the best in all the sports I have played. It did not matter if it was a silly race at school, or a huge basketball game, if I could not be the best there, if I could not win, I would not want to do it.

"Put your best foot forward." This statement has been told to me countless times. By my coaches, teachers, teammates, and others. But how can you put your best foot forward, when your best is being questioned? By you, by your coaches, teachers and everyone else. The short answer for me was, I can't. I can’t put my best foot forward if I know it's not the best I can do or if I know others are doubting it too. Some people might view this as failure, or giving up. I see it as me knowing my limits, knowing myself, and knowing what is best for MY mental health.

As a student-athlete and teenager, I have experienced mental health challenges. I never took my mental health seriously until last year. In my junior year of high school, I started ok. That summer I reconnected with a therapist and was put on antidepressants. I was enjoying school, sports, my friends, my family; everything was perfect. In late December, I had a relationship end that was abrupt and heartbreaking for me. During that period of time, I felt no support from family or friends, just criticism. On top of this, I was carrying a rigorous course load, trying to get recruited for soccer, and dealing with the underlying depression and anxiety.

Many times during my journey in mental health I have felt very alone however I have met so many other athletes who have had similar experiences. The biggest thing I have learned through what I went through is two things: your pain is your power and the recovery may be long but you will get there so don't lose hope even in the darkest of times. Reach out, seek help, and remember you are not alone.

I want to share my story to not only my community, but to anyone who is willing to listen. I can’t keep my story to myself, and if my experiences can support just one person then I will be happy. My story is not one of suffering or sadness, but rather of resilience. I flipped the script of my life, and chose to not let my pain define me.