Fully submerged, lungs pounding for oxygen, pressing on through set after set, and surrounded by my own tears on occasion. Swimming, my first love, my first hate. The source of some of my highest highs and lowest lows. Swimming has been a place of safety and escape for as long as I can remember.

Swimming was so ingrained as a part of who I was, both my identity and worth were founded in the milliseconds displayed on the scoreboard or my ability to finish a set out strongly. My worth was contingent on my speed, performance, and mental stamina needed to endure grueling workout after grueling workout. It broke my body and mind and built them in ways unparalleled to any other experience I've been a part of.

I grew up crawling around on pool decks while my older siblings practiced. Once I was able to join Club I thrived under the demands and praise of my coaches. Everything in me set up to be successful in the sport that I had given myself to.

When I was 15 things began to change, I had to wear a back brace for two years due to scoliosis. In the middle of that, I had my first shoulder surgery. About eight months after my surgery right before my first meet back I broke my ankle. At this point, I was devastated and slowly giving up on my dream of continuing to swim.

Swimming was the place I had placed my identity and I was terrified of what life would look like without it.

To my surprise, swimming in college did happen. After a difficult year at The University of Houston. I transferred to Gardner-Webb in hopes of continuing to pursue swimming there. At this point after all the ups and downs, I held swimming with far more open palms.

I was simply thankful to still be swimming and though bad races were still disappointing they didn't control me quite as much. I genuinely enjoyed swimming and was doing it because I loved it. How I swam at Conference that year was purely by God grace.

Following Conference, I found out I needed surgery again and this time swimming at the college level wasn't going to be a happening thing due to the unrepairable damage to my shoulder. It wasn't easy coming to terms with. I was so upset at God. I didn't understand why I'd transferred all the way to North Carolina if I couldn't keep swimming. I still wonder sometimes but I know I won't really ever know exactly why.

What I do know is that God is still God and therefore He's still good and in control. Even with that knowledge, it's still difficult and I miss it on an almost atomic level some days. A piece of my heart will always be found under the water.

Though I wasn't totally ready to stop swimming, I'm so incredibly thankful for the year I spent training at GWU, God didn't need to give it to me but He did. I met so many incredible people and was apart of a team that felt more like family. I was able to end my swimming career on a positive note full of sweet memories, not on a note of brokenness and defeat.

Though the journey was incredibly rocky at points, every aspect of my swimming career has shaped me and taught me invaluable lessons. From persevering though kick sets that never seem to end, to staying awake and acing bio while attending three practices a day, to becoming proficient at life as a lefty while your arm is in a sling.

My swimming journey and the lessons learned along the way are things I'll forever be thankful for. I don't want to be caught living in the past, so here's to whatever the next adventure is!