The other side of the fence
Prior to 2019 I had never been injured, to any degree. I had hardly missed a training session, let alone a game, and I’d never been forced to watch on from the other side of the fence. But since February 2019, I’ve had two ACL reconstructions and spent close to 20 months in rehab.
The physical challenges that injury and rehab present are obvious, and well understood. Less easy to predict and to plan for is the mental challenge, which for me boils down to two key factors. The first is the isolation.
It’s often said that rehab can be a lonely place, however, I was fortunate to have this factor almost entirely removed. Completing my first rehab side-by-side with Flynny (Elise Coventry) spurred an unlikely friendship and one that I will be forever grateful for. Together we shared every high, every low, and every milestone along the way.
Credit: She Scores
So while there was never a time I felt truly alone in the journey, there’s no denying you still feel separated from the rest of the team. As much as you’re reassured that you’re ”still a part of it”, the reality is that when the siren sounds and the ball goes up, you’re on the wrong side of the fence. There’s such a fine line in sport between the agony and ecstasy of winning and losing – but when you don't even get the chance to compete it’s almost like you’re stuck in the middle. It’s an empty feeling.
The second challenge, and probably the one I’ve struggled with to a greater degree, is the constant reminder that you’re not where you want to be. In that sense, the lockdown period has, in a way, been one of the best things for my mental health. Initially, the prospect of having to complete my rehab alone was unsettling, and only added to the uncertainty and anxiety I was already feeling about my future. But, in hindsight, not having to be surrounded by football and see others continually doing what you can’t, has been a blessing in disguise.
I found when I was watching on from the sidelines, it became hard not to draw comparisons to what I could be doing on the field. When the 2020 season wrapped up I was fresh off my second knee injury in 13 months and feeling a flat as I’ve ever been. So watching the girls of my draft class earn All-Australian honours and Club and League Best and Fairest Awards was really difficult.
Credit: She Scores
I didn’t like the way I was feeling and it was hard for me to process those kinds of emotions. I’d like to think I’m the sort of person who gets a lot of joy out seeing other people succeed, but this was quite different. Whilst I was happy for those girls and what they’d been able to achieve, I couldn’t help but feel envious as well. These feelings were heightened for me by comparisons that had been drawn in the past.
During my U18 year, Maddy Prespakis and I had been pegged against each other on numerous occasions. We were joint winners of both the TAC Cup Best and Fairest as well as the National Carnival MVP. Naturally, we were compared with each other leading into the draft.
Despite our draft years closely aligning, our first two seasons in the AFLW have been starkly different. Sitting on the sidelines for the most part of these two years - I’ve watched Maddy’s incredible rise to the top closely, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t asked myself where I could also be if things were different with my body. Would we have continued to track a similar trajectory?
However, I have come to realise that there is no point holding on to “what if” and “what could have been”. There are so many sliding doors moments in our life and with each one an unforeseen and unpredictable series of events that follow. I have no doubt that my life would look very different having not had these injuries. But to say whether that difference would be for better or worse will only ever be a speculation. My journey so far is definitely not the one I envisaged, but it’s also not one I think I would trade. Rehab has given me new perspectives, taught me more about myself, and has allowed me to develop relationships which continue to be instrumental in my life. I’m not sure I’m a true believer that everything happens for a reason. I don't think life has much of a plan for us, and sometimes shit just happens because it does. But I do believe we can always control how we react and respond. It’s undoubtedly been difficult not to feel envious and feel stripped of an opportunity at times, and I definitely still struggle to push those emotions to the side when I’m reminded of what others have achieved. However, I pride myself on my ability to see the good and make the most of the opportunities that have arisen, even though they might look different to what I’d once hoped.
That’s not to say I haven’t feared these two ACL reconstructions won’t lead to more prolific consequences than missing 2 years of footy. Because my biggest fear isn’t that I won’t end up with the success I’ve watched others achieve…but it’s that I won’t get the opportunity to properly try. The past 2 years have confirmed to me that footy is where I want to be, and I’m more determined than ever to get back to playing the game I love.
