Breaking My Leg, Finding My Love for the Game

Switching teams is always a scary thing for an athlete. Once you get accustomed to an organization, teammates, and coaches, it’s hard to switch things up. There’s something about that first practice in particular that adds a special pressure. All eyes are on you from coaches and teammates alike, questioning what you add to the team or whose spot you’re going to take. I think my debut after switching soccer clubs was definitely unconventional, but it taught me a lot about how I view sports to this day. 

When I was 16, I left Wake FC, where I had played since I was a child, for NCFC. This was intended to boost my chances of playing at the next level and give myself more opportunities. But on my very first practice, I broke my leg.

All of this pressure involved with switching teams was suddenly gone, and I didn’t know what was going to come next. 

For context, soccer was a major part of my life. I practiced every week since I was little, lived in Germany for a year just to play, and even transferred to a hybrid high school in order to better suit my needs and schedule as an athlete.

Breaking my leg was going to require major surgery and intensive rehab. Not only would the process be grueling, but it forced me to be sidelined during vital recruiting years. 

For most athletes in my position, an injury like this would have been devastating. Years of training, sacrifices, and preparation were suddenly put on hold, and the future I had been working toward was now uncertain.

But strangely enough, the first emotion I remember feeling wasn't sadness or frustration.

It was relief.

Somewhere along the way, soccer had started to feel less like something I loved and more like something I was obligated to do. What started as a childhood passion had gradually turned into a constant cycle of practices, games, training, and pressure to perform. I was so focused on reaching the next level that I rarely stopped to ask myself if that was even what I wanted anymore.

Of course, breaking my leg wasn't how I wanted things to turn out. The recovery process was difficult, and watching from the sidelines wasn't always easy. But for the first time in years, I had an opportunity to distance myself from the sport and reflect on what it actually meant to me.

I started to realize that maybe playing college soccer wasn't something I genuinely wanted, but rather something I had convinced myself I needed to do because of how much time I had already invested in the sport. It felt wrong to walk away from something that had been such a major part of my life, but I was beginning to understand that moving on didn't mean all those years had been wasted.

Today, I'm a student at UNC-Chapel Hill, where I still play club and intramural soccer. The difference is that now, I'm playing because I want to, not because I feel like I have to.

I still get to experience the competition, friendships, and excitement that made me fall in love with soccer in the first place, just without the constant pressure of trying to turn it into something more.

Looking back, I wouldn't necessarily say I'm glad I broke my leg. But I am grateful for the perspective it gave me. It was a blessing in disguise.

I think that's something a lot of young athletes struggle with. When you've dedicated years of your life to a sport, it can feel like anything short of playing at the highest possible level is a failure. There's this idea that if you have the talent and opportunity to keep going, you should, regardless of whether you're still enjoying yourself.

But I've learned that there's nothing wrong with redefining what success looks like.

Not every athlete needs to play in college. Not every childhood passion needs to become a career. Sometimes, the best thing you can do for your relationship with a sport is to take a step away from the expectations surrounding it.

At the end of the day, you don't have to stop loving a sport just because you stop chasing the next level.