Ever since I could walk, a soccer ball has been at my feet. At five-years-old, my parents enrolled me in my neighborhood’s youth soccer league. By age eight, I had made my first travel soccer team. I was taller, stronger, and faster than all the other girls. Every aspect of my life was soccer, it was all I was capable of thinking about. It was inevitable that I would play soccer in college.
In middle school, I was set on getting recruited. I caused utter chaos in my family’s schedule, moving from one team to another year after year, having my parents drive me to and from games all across New England. My coaches kept telling me to keep getting stronger, faster, and taller, and I would be recruited by a Division III university.
On top of that, my sister was in the process of getting recruited by a prestigious university for soccer. My parents had also been major athletes - my mom played varsity lacrosse at a Division I school and both of my parents were world champion Ultimate Frisbee players. I was bombarded with this unspoken pressure to live up to my family’s standards. I figured I wasn’t done growing, and would have the size to be a tremendous soccer player.
Freshmen year of high school came and went, and I was still a measly 5 foot 3. My dad kept telling me that my height wouldn’t matter in the recruiting process, but I knew college coaches would not even look at me as I was a short girl playing a tall position. My friends began to get recruited to top soccer programs around the country. Knowing that I was falling behind made me feel infinitely lesser.
It was not until sophomore year that I came to terms with this harsh reality; I would not be able to play the sport I had devoted my entire life to at the highest level. I had seen my sister, the strongest, fittest, and most skilled player I knew, get cut from her college team. If she did not have a chance, there was no way I would. This realization made me feel lost. For the first time in my entire life, I felt like I had truly lost my grip. All of my friends had their “thing” - ballet, piano, fencing, etc. Without mine, I was the odd one out.
I could’ve made the worst of the situation. But I realized that I had spent my entire life focused on soccer. I decided to expand my horizons, trying out track and field, beginning to work in a research lab, and taking piano lessons. These activities were things I’d never thought I would have any interest in, nonetheless do. I'm glad I got my heart broken by what I love the most because it only made me stronger. I love soccer, but my love for it should not devour my entire life. It’s important to vary your opportunities. Being set on one goal for most of my life only limited my potential in other fields. My only regret is that I did not realize I was capable of more than being a soccer player earlier.
Of course, I still play soccer on my high school team and travel team and am planning on playing recreational (club or intermural) soccer in college. Soccer is something I will carry with me for the rest of my life, but now I know that there is more to life than just that.
