What If She Had Answered? Zandy Soree
Zandy Soree picked up her phone to call her coach and tell her that she was done playing soccer after suffering a brutal injury. Lucky for her, Zandy’s coach didn’t pick up. Six years later, Zandy is still playing soccer at the highest level.
My name is Zandy Soree, I'm a women's soccer player I think I have a story worth telling. I've gone through a rare experience, and when it was happening to me I had nothing to reference. I'm hoping I can put my story out there so if others go through similar experiences they have something to know it will be ok.
I've been playing soccer since I was 7 years old. Absolutely fell in love with the sport from the beginning. I was never interested in anything else, never played any other sports, it was always soccer soccer soccer. The ball was always at my feet, I was always training, and my hard work had always paid off. In my sophomore year of high school, I committed to the University of Central Florida. Soon after, I began playing with the Belgian National team (I am a dual-citizen) at the youth levels. I went to the Euro U17 Qualifiers and scored three goals in three games. It was incredible. I felt as if I was achieving new heights and I was on route to all of my dreams coming true.
The February of my Junior year of high school, my world turned upside down. I was kneed in the groin during a simple 1v1 drill. Minutes later my leg began swelling and turning purple. After learning that I had developed a deep vein thrombosis in my left leg and spending a week in the hospital, I had a procedure that theoretically was going to get rid of the clots. Cliche as it is, my first question after surgery was to ask when I could play soccer again. Two more procedures later, we discovered that the clots were scarred, and always would be. Desperate to play again, I sought many opinions, but time after time I was told there was no way I'd compete again.
Hearing I wouldn't compete again was incredibly difficult. To be told it repeatedly was just defeating. Soccer had been my everything since the age of seven, it was how I defined myself and what I centered my life around. As I considered quitting, I felt no sense of closure with the decision. It had happened so suddenly and it was such a rare injury. Soccer had just sort of been ripped away from me. I had nobody to base it off of, no specific athlete showing me it was possible. The pain I was in just walking was unbearable, and I thought the doctors must be right because I had no reason to think otherwise.
I called my soon to be college coach to de-commit, but she didn't answer her phone. Moments later, I decided I wasn't ready to walk away from this sport. I honestly can't say what path I would've taken if my future coach had answered and I had gone through with de-committing. I do know that the 2015 Women's World Cup was being played that year. It was constantly on in our house, and I remember just feeling heart broken watch these women do what I couldn't. That's when I realized I couldn't walk away from the sport, I needed to do everything I could to get it back. I loved it too much. I wasn't ready to part with it; I didn't want to reinvent myself. I wanted to play soccer. Luckily for me, I had a doctor who acknowledged nothing could be done for the clots, but would closely monitor me if I decided to try anyway.
The pain was incredible. I could barely stand to walk across the house. I tried to run, made it one house past my own, and had to sit on the sidewalk until I felt recovered to enough to walk back home.
My biggest source of motivation was just to get back to the game. Soccer was my biggest identity and sense of self, I genuinely felt lost without it. There was a void that, try as I did, I couldn't fill. More than anything, I felt I needed to be on the field again. The support my parents gave me was more than I could have ever asked for. My mom and I would go for walks around the neighborhood. When we first began, I think we only made it down the street, then eventually around the block, slowly increasing our distance until I felt my leg was prepared enough to begin running. My dad would go to the track with me, and we would see how far I could get, feeling incredibly accomplished at the slightest increase of distance. They were present in all of the moments I struggled most, and continued to encourage me while making it clear that the decision to play or not was entirely my own. It was always my decision, and they would support anything I decided in any way that they could.
Eight months later, I was back on the field. In as much pain as ever, but back where I belonged, where I felt my best. In the last six years not a single day has gone by that I haven't been in pain. Most days it's pretty intense pain. In the past six years I've also debuted with the senior national team, earned four caps, started four years of college soccer, and signed my first professional contract in the NWSL. None of it has been easy. I have learned how to manage pain that is almost impossible to manage. I have spent the last six years trying to rebuild my confidence, which was shattered by my chronic injury and has just begun to come back. At a point, the physical pain isn't the biggest issue anymore. I've had this chronic pain for six years, I know what to expect of it, and I manage it as best as I can. The mental aspect has been much more difficult. It wasn't something I acknowledged at all, focusing on only the physical aspects of my injury. The exhaustion that comes with being in constant pain is real and it weighed on me. I thought my injury immediately made me less qualified than others. Each time my game came to a new level-collegiate, U19, senior national team, NWSL- my first though was well, everyone is just as good, except they're healthy. I put myself beneath everyone based on my pain, when none of my coaches viewed it that way. I lost my identity in the sport and sometimes my enjoyment. In a sport that is driven off of accomplishment and recognition, I had to focus on my journey and being the best I could be every day rather than comparing myself to the players next to me. I'm still building on my self-confidence and self-appreciation. I've accomplished more than I ever should have, and I plan to continue doing just that.
My advice would be to believe in yourself. You are the only one who knows what you are capable of. The mind is an incredible thing, and the way you speak to yourself affects you more than you know. I wasted a lot of opportunities simply by seeing myself as less than because of my injury. I had no belief in myself and it put me at such a disadvantage. I used to exude confidence and I now approached anything thinking that I couldn't be good enough when compared to healthy players. I was the only person putting myself down, and I think I spent a lot of years playing beneath my potential because I convinced myself it was all I could do. When the physical pain became a new normal for me, I realized that I hadn't given any attention to my mental state. I began to speak with someone, and the biggest thing I found was that I was so focused on what I had or hadn't accomplished, I didn't appreciate how incredible what I was doing was. Physical pain is sharp and loud. It demands your attention, as well as deserves it, but it is not the only struggle that comes with an injury. Any injury goes far beyond the physicality of it- take care of the mental and emotional aspects you may not even realize are challenging you throughout your process.
