2014
Kelley had always been the one to watch, a force to be reckoned with on the soccer field. Ever since she transitioned into a defender, she became relentless, a brick wall that no attacker could break through. Her timing was perfect, her tackles sharp and calculated, she was feisty and full of passion and she had an instinct for shutting down the opponent’s best player. She was the backbone of any team she was apart of.
But for Kelley, that foundation she built over the first few years of her professional career was starting to crumble.
Injuries were a constant companion for her. They started off small, almost like a nuisance. A sprained ankle here, a pulled hamstring there. But soon, they became a cycle that consumed her. Her knee gave out during a slide tackle, and the rehab felt like it would never end. When one injury healed, another seemed to take its place. Another sprained ankle. A strained quadricep. A concussion that kept her off the pitch longer than expected. Kelley’s body, once her most reliable asset, became the enemy. It was weakening her, failing her. And she was still young, and had a long way to go until she gave up the sport for good - that was the not so good thing.
It wasn’t just the physical pain that destroyed her. It was the mental weight of it all. Watching her teammates play without her. Seeing new faces brought in to replace her on the starting lineup. She wasn’t getting called up to the national team as much as she used to, instead having to watch other players, much younger and healthy and fresh players take her sport. Take her number. It felt like she was being pushed out of the game she had given everything to.
With each injury, the pressure grew heavier. The expectations were suffocating, and Kelley found it harder and harder to meet them. The longer she was sidelined, the more she fell into a spiral. She tried to push through it, to keep herself motivated by the thought of returning to the pitch, but it wasn’t that easy. She wasn’t just physically broken, she was mentally exhausted, too. Things started to look up for her, as she made her way back on the pitch, back defending, back scoring. And then it all came crashing down when she found out she had a stress fracture, located in her ankle. She almost laughed.
The loneliness set in. Her social circle dwindled as she was again sidelined. No recent hangouts with the national team girls. No club dinners or coffee runs. Just her, all alone, in her New Jersey apartment. But when she did go out, it was to drown the disappointment in alcohol. She couldn’t train, couldn’t run much, but she could drink. It relieved some of the pain inside of her. She felt okay - even if it only lasted for a few hours. It was still something.
She went to bars, clubs, wherever she could lose herself for a night. And when the alcohol kicked in, the walls came down. Kelley found herself hooking up with women she didn’t know, women who didn’t care that Kelley was falling apart, women who just wanted to say they had sex with a famous athlete. For a few moments, she could forget the pain around her body, the anger in her heart, the constant feeling that she was on the verge of losing everything.
It became a vicious cycle. Drink, hook up, forget, repeat. It was easier than confronting the hollow feeling that gnawed at her inside. She told herself it was just a phase, just a way to cope with the stress, but deep down, she knew something was wrong. She wasn’t healing. She wasn’t growing. She was spiraling.
Kelley would wake up the next morning with a headache and a sense of shame she couldn’t shake. Her mind would race, the doubts and anxieties creeping in. Was this it? Was her career over? Was she nothing but a washed-up athlete whose body couldn’t keep up with her ambitions?
And when her ankle had finally recovered and she was back playing at least forty five minutes each week, her mental health suffered too. Kelley had always been strong, both on and off the field, but now she felt weak, fragile. Her confidence crumbled. She stopped believing in herself. She was still in that cycle, with the alcohol, the girls and on top of that she was still training and playing, along with struggling to fuel her body with the food and nutrients it needed. The temporary escapes were no longer enough anymore, she felt like a failure, her body felt like a failure - but it was all she had.
As the months dragged on, and the end of the season was getting closer, Kelley’s name started to fade from the headlines. No longer a star, no longer a stand out for her country. Just another player whose time had passed. Her coach began to look elsewhere, for girls who were stronger, eager, younger. Teammates moved on, not wanting to involve themself in this mess Kelley had created within herself. Kelley found herself alone once again, disconnected from the game she had once loved. Still loved.
But she didn’t know how to stop. She didn’t know if she wanted to stop. Each night was a search for something, anything that could fill the void. But every morning, when the alcohol wore off and the women were gone, Kelley was left with the same sinking feeling.
Kelley didn’t know how to get back to the girl who she used to be. She didn’t know if she could. The injuries, the drinking, everything had all taken their toll, leaving her wondering if there was any way out of the spiral she’d found herself in.
The few final months of the season had come to an end, and she was playing in her last game. When she heard the final whistle blow, Kelley stood at the bottom of the field, her legs sore, her heart heavier than it had been in months. The season was over. A quiet part of her felt relief, because the constant cycle of rehabbing injuries and sitting on the sidelines had taken its toll. But the rest of her felt numb. She had pushed through the last few weeks, trying to show up for her teammates, trying to be a better her, to fight through the pain and disappointment.
This season hadn’t been what she had hoped for. Not at all. It had been a blur of injury and mounting frustration. She had played a few games here and there, but never long enough to make a real impact. The hope she’d carried into the year of finally being healthy, of getting back to her younger self had slowly eroded. It felt like all she had done was watch her career slip through her fingers. She wanted to grow as a player, be with the team. Show Jill that she had to be a part of the squad next year. But that unfortunately didn’t go to plan
But as she trudged back to the locker room, Kelley felt something stir inside her. A faint flicker, almost as if it was buried beneath the layers of frustration and doubt. It was a small thought, one she hadn’t allowed herself to fully entertain in a long time. Next year will be better.
She wasn’t sure how she was going to make it happen, but she was certain she would. She allowed herself, in that moment, to feel a sense of hope again. A feeling she hasn’t had in a long time. She needed to change, get better. Focus on the important things in her life - soccer, friends and family. Forget about the girls, forget about getting intoxicated every week. She just wanted to be okay again. To try and find ways that could reduce her chances of picking up injuries, taking care of her body and her mind.
Her coach pulled her aside after the game. He’d watched her struggle with the injuries and the mental toll that came with them. He knew to some extent what Kelley had gone through, and knew how hard she had fought to keep playing when it would have been easier to walk away.
“You’ve been through a lot this year, Kelley. But I know you. I know what you're capable of. You’re not finished yet. Take some time, rest up, and focus on getting healthy. We’ll need you next season.”
His words lingered in her mind long after she left the stadium. We’ll need you next season. It felt like a promise. Kelley had spent so much time questioning if she still belonged, if she was still the player she had been before the injuries took over. But hearing those words gave her something to hold onto.
That night, she didn’t go out. And she knew it wasn’t going to be easy. The temptation to fall back into old habits was still there, it would always be there. But Kelley knew now that she had to fight for herself. She wanted to be on that plane to Canada. She wanted to win that World Cup that they were so close to getting three years ago. She had to believe that she was more than the sum of her injuries, more than the failed attempts to get back on top.
That night, Kelley spent the evening stretching, meditating, reflecting on what she could do differently, she caught up with a few friends - Alex, Christen and Heather. The next year could be her redemption, but it was going to take work. Real work.
And in the weeks that followed, Kelley went back to basics. She worked with her physical therapist to strengthen her muscles. She took care of her body, focused on proper nutrition and rest. She also started seeing a therapist. It was a step forward. It was a way to begin rebuilding all of her confidence that had disappeared.