I am an idealist, perfectionist, dreamer and believer. The older I get, the more I realize this about myself. Maybe because age and experience usually jade people and it surprises me how little I have changed.
This became most clear to me because I can never sleep on a plane ride home. I’m too wound up. On the return leg of each adventure my career has afforded me, my mind works nearly as fast as the jet that propels me through the air. I feel sentimental because often I am leaving a part of the world and people I may never see again. But I am energized by these beginnings that others may see as ends.
As I returned from playing in Cyprus, I felt sad to separate from an amazing place and group of people. I was also disappointed that we could not be the first women’s team from Cyprus to advance past the Round of 32 in the UEFA Women's Champions League. As this chapter ended, I couldn’t help but reflect on my career. If you had told me as a teenager that at 27 I would be playing soccer for a team in Cyprus, I would have been steadfast in assuring you that is not the dream I imagined.
But that’s the thing about dreams. I have deeply misunderstood them and their place in my life. Dreams can provide addictive feelings — a pounding heart, trembling hands, racing mind, and then, a still heart. But I have been guilty of letting dreams dictate how I feel about my life. What I am learning to do instead is to let my life lead me to my dreams.
While in Cyprus, I walked out into a beautiful stadium while the Champions League anthem played; I swam in the Mediterranean Sea; I met people who inspired me to stay up all night talking; I had moved to a place to play the sport I love and get paid to do it. Whatever energizes my spirit and brings joy and fulfillment is, in fact, a dream come true.
Dreams are simply visions representing a way we hope to feel. I have often hung onto those specific visions as representations of success or failure. What I’ve found is that fulfillment comes in seeking the feeling, not necessarily the vision. I lived my life seeking to replicate the specific visions of my dreams, and in doing so, made my dreams my master.
I sat in the stands and watched my friends represent the U.S. women’s national team in Concacaf qualifiers. The vision I had associated with my dreams would have left me feeling like a failure because in my dreams, I see myself out there, wearing the U.S. jersey. I can separate that vision now. I am living my dream, even if it is not exactly how I had pictured it. I am healthy, still improving as a player, employed to train and play, and in a position to interact with and empower young players around the world.
It is not just wearing that U.S. jersey that is my dream. My dreams are not my master. That doesn’t mean that I won’t pursue lofty goals with every ounce of my being. It doesn’t mean I have forfeited in my constant tug-of-war between contentment and desire. I’m addicted to finding that next opportunity to feel my dreams come to life within my heart. I don’t know what they will look like. That is not always up to me to decide. But I know what they will feel like.
As my flight from Cyprus landed at John F. Kennedy International Airport, the captain came on the intercom. Instead of the typical spiel to enjoy our time in New York or whatever our final destination may be, he wished us a “happy onward journey.” I smiled. His sentiments were fitting.
Dream on, my friends, and happy onward journey.
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