Stepping out of the airport alone, I am filled with anxiety and nervousness wondering whether or not there will be someone from the tournament there to pick me up. Here I am, all by myself, in an African country and wondering how in the world my parents agreed to send me here. I was excited at first about the idea that this new independence would conjure up the strength needed to start pulling out the tough matches I was losing so closely in the third set. It was the first time I had travelled without a coach, friend or parent, and it was an adventure I thought I was ready for. But, after a nine-hour flight to London, then another four-hour leg to Lagos, Nigeria, I asked myself, “Is this really worth it?” Did I really travel halfway around the world to chase after “easy” points.