With this being my first year on OL Reign, I was instantly impressed by the team’s closeness, individual strength, acceptance of differences, and leadership. This team truly has some inspiring women on it and I can genuinely say I learned something from every girl on the roster.

One person in particular who stuck out to me was captain Lu Barnes – who by the way had an unbelievable tournament! Let’s appreciate that for a second. Lu has the world’s biggest heart. She also makes the best vegan pancakes, which we had every gameday morning. She leads with love in all that she does and as a member for all 8 years, she is a big reason why this team has been so successful.

While in the Bubble, Lu, Rosie White and I noticed there was an absurd amount of waste. So together, we worked with some amazing companies to provide the team with reusable water bottles courtesy of Crazy Cap, reusable cutlery courtesy of Albatross Cutlery, and reusable plates courtesy of Eco Lunch Box. This cut back our use of single-use plastic immensely, and it was empowering to see the whole team buy into reducing their waste.

Although it was always an exciting day when we were able to leave the hotel, I do not particularly miss the invasive biweekly COVID testing. You would walk down the long halls of the academy and step into what appeared to be a doctor’s office in a makeshift classroom. You would sit patiently trying to distract yourself before kindly being asked which nostril you prefer. Left side strong side, every time for me. Apparently, I also have a small naval cavity… you learn something new every day.

I have nothing but admiration and respect for Steph, who was a fearless leader within our squad, and for her two little girls. From watching ballet recitals, basketball shootouts, pool excursions, and so much more… Steph chased her children around the hotel while putting in 90-minute shifts. Hearing their laughter fill the hallway broke up our monotonous routine and served as a constant reminder to choose joy throughout the journey.

Side note: I was getting closer and closer to this deer, and Rosie screamed my name sending it running for the woods. So blame Rosie White for not letting me get a closer photo for you all.

Travel Day

Our month-long preseason had gone by in the blink of an eye. We said our goodbyes to the beautiful community of Missoula, one that welcomed us with open arms, and were grateful to be representing another city as we headed into the Challenge Cup. We carpooled to the airport as teams do, but this time was different. We arrived at the airport and were led through a separate gate and instructed to pull directly onto the runway. We all took our turns guessing which airplane was the one we would take (everyone was wrong), and I got in trouble for taking pictures of people’s private planes. With laughter and smiles concealed by our face masks, we smized our way onto our little plane.

A huge thank you to our Club, the NWSL, and the Utah Royals for ensuring this safe method of travel for our team.

Before take-off, there was a combination of nerves and excitement amongst the group. Not sure whether it was because of the small flight, the turbulence, or the fact that Co-Pilot Jess Fishlock was apparently landing our plane. Without fail, a 10/10 landing from the legend, and our team touched down safely in Utah eager to get started.

Thank you for taking the time to read a short snippet of our final days in Montana and our journey to Utah. I hope to use this platform to showcase an inside look of the NWSL Village and share some stories behind the incredible people within it.

People assume that most professional athletes began as child prodigies, that they were the kids who started training as soon as they learned to walk, and then were the star of every youth team they played on. And some probably were.

I wasn’t.

I couldn’t even make my youth club’s “A” team.

Instead, my journey began with the “B” team of the Southern California Blues. And there it seemed to stall. Year after year, I watched as my fellow teammates got called up to the “A” team, while I was told that I was still too small, too slow, and just not good enough. These rejections never got easier. Each year, I was left heartbroken.

I started to doubt myself — it’s difficult not to when you’re told the same thing over and over again.

Throughout it all, my dad’s advice never changed. After each annual disappointment, he said the exact same thing: “You just have to work harder if you want it. Give it 110 percent, and dig deeper than everyone else on the field.”

My dad was my #1 fan. Before every game, he always had a Snickers and a banana ready for me. He didn’t really know soccer, but that didn’t matter. He knew enough to be able to tell whether I was playing my heart out. All of his feedback focused on my effort, rather than my skill. The only thing he cared about was that I left it all on the field.

That focus — that emphasis on effort above all else — became central to my approach. I realized that I couldn’t control my size, and that, once a tryout was over, I couldn’t control what team I was on. But I could always outwork everyone else on the field. Every practice. Every game. I could always be the most relentless.

And finally, after six years — six years of being told that I wasn’t good enough and six years of working every day to prove that I was — I made the “A” team. And not only did I make the team, but after our first training, I was named its captain.

I thought it must have been a mistake when I heard my name called. I still hadn’t even wrapped my head around the fact that I was finally on the same field as these girls, and I had just been picked to lead them. I was shocked.

What I hadn’t realized at the time was that, through all those years on the “B” team, I had been growing as both a player and a person, even when it seemed like I was stuck in place. Since then, I’ve been fortunate to play on so many amazing teams, at college, professionally in the NWSL, and abroad — and I have loved each and every one of them. But the most impactful chapter of my soccer journey — when I learned the most important life lessons — was my time playing for the “B” team of the SoCal Blues.

It was there that I learned to be accountable and to always push myself. I learned to pour all my energy into the pursuit of excellence, rather than worrying about any specific outcome.

But above all else, I learned to derive my confidence from within. No matter how many times I was told I wasn’t enough — not fast enough, not strong enough, not good enough — I always came back to my dad’s words. The confidence and life he spoke into me made me feel like I could achieve anything. My dad never told me I was the best. He told me I could be the best if I wanted to be. It was completely up to me and how hard I was willing to work for it. No matter what others thought, I had to rely on my belief in myself.