A Letter to My Younger Self

August 2020, (one week pre final op):

I’m not writing pre third op because I’m speaking, writing, and thinking this shit into existence that this will be my last knee surgery. I just watched my junior year highlights from nearly four years ago. I’m not sure yet if it was a mistake or not, but God I miss playing. Four years ago, I felt like the world was against me: no colleges interests, absolutely no social life, stressing out of my ass. Then three months later, I became the most recruited player on the team, and I think I actually went to party. That was supposed to be my comeback, not this.

If you told me four years ago that I would be having my third knee surgery in 14 months, I would ask, “Why haven’t I quit already?”

February 2022, (six weeks post fourth op):

Dear 20-year-old Grace,

You are such a dumb ass. You think you have it rough? Just wait two more years. You have no idea what’s in store for you; the emotions you will experience, the hardships you will endure, the relationships you will gain and lose. You will hurt from anger, frustration, and love. You will discover parts of yourself you didn’t even know existed. But most importantly, you will grow more than you think you are capable of.

You read a book over the summer called, The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck, and you claimed that it changed your life. A key idea of the book explains that you are not Elon Musk, Beyoncé, or Steve Jobs; therefore, you are not special. You reveled in this concept, yet you continued to think that the world was against you. Bitch, have you not learned that the universe don’t give a shit about you? Your two ACL tears has nothing to do with the universe being against you. You are responsible for your own problems. Put your big girl panties on and own them. You will have trouble getting to this point; in fact, you will need to tear your ACL again to get this idea through that thick ass head of yours, but you will get there.

At this point in your life, you’ve had about three existential crises: one about your identity outside of sports, one about which ethnic group you belong to, and one about using your extra years of eligibility. Spoiler alert: you won’t have to worry about the last one, you’ll be inevitably and suddenly thrown into the first one, and it is possible for you to belong to multiple ethnic groups even though that concept doesn’t sit right with you yet. You will slowly begin to attack each issue one at a time, and you will discover a field that researches ACL injuries in elite athletes, compares data between ACL injuries in males and females, and works to lower the risk of ACL injury and improve ACL reconstruction success rates. You will get accepted into some of the best engineering programs in the country to complete your Master’s and have aspirations to solve an issue that has seemingly taken over your life, so why are you worried about it now? I’m a hypocrite for asking that, but you should better trust the people who have your best interests and believe in you more than you could ever believe in yourself.

In the beginning of the year, you were recording your food in MyFitnessPal, creating weekly menus by looking ahead at what the dining hall was serving for the week so you wouldn’t be tempted to eat a cookie after dinner, weighing yourself biweekly, and going to bed a little hungrier every night. I know you thought this was healthy, necessary even, for your recovery since you convinced yourself that those several pounds you were trying to lose were the cause of your ACL tear to begin with, but you destroyed your relationship with food. You became obsessed with your physical appearance; in turn, you equated your weight to your beauty. You actually got what you wanted that summer: you became the skinniest you had ever been. You even had a thigh gap! But you hated it, and you were confused. You counted calories, weighed your food on a scale, and went to bed hungry. You achieved the body you thought you desired, yet you were still unhappy. Then, people began to die from germs and racial violence, and you realized people could care less about your weight. You will eventually recognize that how much you weigh or how big of a gap exists between your legs does not pertain to your beauty, intelligence, or charisma. Unfortunately, it’ll take some time to fully accept this. In fact, even I’m still working on it two years later.

I’m sorry to inform you that even with your extensive experience in ACLR rehab and conservative preparation to become a college athlete again, your knee will get the best of you, and you will undergo a fourth knee surgery before you turn 22. I think about where your mindset is right now; your priority is to become the athlete you once were, the goalkeeper you are certain you are capable of being. You say your first priority is your family, but you’re looking out for yourself right now, and that’s okay. You won’t truly appreciate your family until you injure yourself again, and there’s no one to pick up the pieces of yourself but them. Today’s my 22nd birthday, and I prioritize just about everything but soccer because I had to quit, and I know that news is devastating to you. You’re probably wondering, “Did she do enough? Why would she give up something she loves so easily?” But you know me, I don’t live my life with regret.

I know you feel stagnant, but I recognize how much you have grown. I know you feel like your knee has taken over your life, but the years you deal with ACL surgery seem minimal compared to the hopefully long lifetime you will eventually experience. I would tell you it gets better, but if anything, it gets worse. It doesn’t matter. You have the will and support system to get through it, so cheers to you. And cheers to me for making it to 22 with two ACL’s, just not the same one I thought it would be.