The Dream I Grieved and the Miracle I Became

The World Cup is now in full swing — and with it, a flood of memories about the sport that shaped me, the diagnosis that shattered my dream, and the miracle that changed everything.

The FIFA World Cup started last Thursday. Millions of people have and will continue to gather to watch their countries play, celebrating the same way when their team scores a goal and feeling the same heartache if their team loses.

These types of events are a reminder of our humanity, of our collective power and strength as a community. Strangers turn to each other in support of their nations, hugging and cheering during triumph and groans and tears during disappointment.

Soccer holds an incredibly special place in my soul. It’s the dream I held as a little girl that one day I’d be on a global field playing the sport that always felt like home. And it’s the sport I walked away from when I was diagnosed with a muscle disease in high school, that I was lucky I hadn’t already died from.

I used to cry in pain and heartache every time I watched a game because I wanted to be able to play. That pain was so deep and scorching that it became deep rooted anger.

And this rage created a series of self-destructive thought patterns and decisions that only added to the underlying pain rather than healing it. It took years before I made the decision that the diagnosis I received wasn’t going to be an anchor I dragged around for the rest of my life.

When Grief Becomes Armor

Grief has a way of shape-shifting. What starts as sadness quietly hardens into something else — resentment, avoidance, a slow burning rage at the life you imagined and didn’t get. For years, my relationship with soccer was exactly that: a grief I didn’t know how to hold, so I turned it into armor instead.

What I didn’t understand then was that the anger wasn’t the problem. It was a signal. It was pointing me toward something I hadn’t yet learned to do — grieve the dream cleanly, without letting the grief define me.

The Miracle I Never Believed I Deserved

In 2023, I chose to stop drowning myself in the grief, choosing to heal rather than destruct. That decision allowed magic to start happening. The path I had chosen to walk led me to a truly wonderful human, Yolanda, who practices somatic hypnosis and my life was forever changed.

A week after my first session with her, I realized that the work I had done during that session had healed the muscle disease I’d had my entire life. I became a walking miracle in a way I never imagined I’d be lucky enough to experience.

You hear stories of people whose cancer is suddenly gone or can walk after being in a wheelchair. And I believed miracles could happen, but I truly did not believe I was deserving of such a grand one.

My entire perspective was shattered the day I realized what I had done and I have never been the same since. It’s become a way to ground myself when I start to get lost in emotions or doubts. I remind myself that I did what most would view as impossible. It helps me stay grateful during difficult moments. Because I can now move my body in ways I couldn’t before.

Through the choice to no longer hate myself and my circumstances, I opened myself up to blessings and possibilities beyond what I ever imagined.

The Slow Sacred Work of Choosing Differently

That’s not a small thing — choosing to shift. It doesn’t happen in a single session or a single decision. It happens in the accumulation of small moments where you choose differently. Where you choose to stop punishing yourself for what didn’t happen and start asking what might still be possible.

The miracle wasn’t just physical. It was the permission — the one I finally gave myself — to stop being the person the diagnosis said I was.

Learning To Hold Both

I could love soccer again without the incredible pain when watching it. And as I’ve been watching the games, I’ve enjoyed the global community that the World Cup creates, rather than drowning myself in sorrow and anger at what I wished had happened for me.

I know my past was exactly what I needed to experience to create who I am today, and I am so grateful for each and every version that was strong enough to get me here.

It can be challenging to hold the duality of celebration for a sport and the sorrow for the wars and pain happening around the world. But it’s this duality that makes life worth living. Life is not an either/or situation. It is always both.

And learning to hold both is where the healing is done. I can get teary-eyed over the opening ceremony song performance and the joy of the competition while holding grief for atrocities happening at the same moments around the world.

Because if these events show us anything, it’s the endurance of the human spirit. The determination and perseverance of the players to get to this world stage and the community showing up in whatever way they can to be a part of this journey.

Our differences make us interesting and our similarities ground us in our shared humanity.