Breaking through silence

Finding strength in small things

Izzy stayed in the locker room for what felt like hours, her body slowly recovering from the onslaught of dizziness and difficulty breathing. Leah hadn't left her side, only offering quiet words of comfort when she saw Izzy trying to gather the strength to stand. The cold was still biting through the walls, but Izzy felt a little warmer with each minute that passed, her body relaxing, her mind beginning to quiet.

"Feel any better?" Leah asked, breaking the silence as she stood by the bench, her arms crossed over her chest.

Izzy nodded weakly, though she wasn't sure if she was entirely convinced. "A little. It's just... a lot to take in, you know? The whole 'getting back to normal' thing."

Leah's gaze softened, and she crouched down to Izzy's level, placing a hand on her knee. "You don't have to rush. We all know how tough things have been for you. It's okay to take your time and figure it out."

Izzy let out a heavy sigh, leaning her head back against the cool bench. She had spent so long trying to keep up, trying to prove herself to everyone—her teammates, her family, herself. But now, it felt like everything was unraveling, the threads of her past and present tangled in ways she couldn't untangle. "I just don't know if I can do this anymore," Izzy admitted, her voice small. "The pressure... the expectations... I'm so tired of it. Of feeling like I have to keep going, even when I can barely breathe."

Leah's eyes softened with understanding, and she reached for Izzy's hand, squeezing it gently. "You don't have to keep going if you're not ready, Izzy. You've been through so much. No one here is expecting you to be perfect. We just want you to be okay."

The words hit Izzy like a tidal wave, crashing over her with such force that she felt her chest tighten again, but this time it was different. She wasn't drowning in the weight of it. She could breathe through it. Leah was right. She didn't have to do it all right now. She could take her time.

Izzy shifted on the bench, her legs feeling weak beneath her, but she was starting to find some footing, some sense of control. "I want to get back out there," she said, her voice firmer now. "I really do. I just... don't know how."

"You don't have to have all the answers right now," Leah said, her smile warm and reassuring. "You've made so much progress already. You've come so far, Izzy. No one's rushing you. Take it one day at a time, yeah?"

Izzy nodded, grateful for Leah's support, but her mind was still swirling. She wanted to feel like herself again. She didn't want to be held back by her fears, her insecurities, her health problems. But the reality was that they were all a part of her now, and she had to figure out how to balance them.

The sound of footsteps approaching the locker room door broke her train of thought, and both Izzy and Leah turned to see Alessia and Kyra stepping into the room. They were both still in their training kits, their faces flushed from the cold, but they smiled when they saw Izzy sitting up on the bench.

"How are you feeling?" Kyra asked, her voice soft as she came closer, her eyes scanning Izzy's face for any signs of discomfort.

Izzy gave a small shrug, her lips pulling into a tentative smile. "Better. Just need to... take it slow for now."

Alessia tilted her head, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "Don't push yourself too hard, Izzy. We're all here for you, and there's no rush. You've got a whole team behind you, and we're all in this together."

Izzy's chest tightened a little at her words, but it wasn't from the familiar weight of anxiety. This time, it felt like a warmth, a sense of belonging she hadn't realized she needed so desperately. She was part of this team—fully, without a doubt. They weren't just her teammates; they were her support, her family. And she needed to trust that.

"I know," Izzy said quietly, looking between Leah, Alessia, and Kyra. "I don't want to let anyone down."

"You won't," Leah reassured her, her hand still resting gently on Izzy's. "No one here is expecting you to be perfect. You just need to take care of yourself. That's all any of us want."

Izzy felt a lump form in her throat as she looked at her friends, her teammates—people who truly cared. It wasn't about being perfect. It wasn't about pushing herself beyond what she could handle. It was about finding a balance, about learning to take care of herself as much as she cared for the game and for the people she was playing with.

"I'll get there," Izzy said, her voice firmer now, a sense of resolve filling her. "I don't know how long it'll take, but I'll get there."

Alessia gave her a warm smile, her eyes soft. "That's all we can ask for."

Izzy smiled back, feeling something inside of her shift, even if it was just a small change. She wasn't sure what the future held, or when she'd be back out on the field, but for the first time in a long time, she felt like she had a place here. And that meant more than she could ever explain.

For the rest of the afternoon, the girls kept her company, talking through the day's training and catching up on anything that had been missed. It felt like a normal day, a day where she wasn't struggling with the weight of her past or the fear of her health. She wasn't just a player on the sidelines anymore; she was part of the team, and that meant something.

As the day wore on and the sun began to set, Izzy felt a quiet sense of peace settle over her. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't everything she had hoped for. But it was a start—a start toward finding herself again, even if she didn't have all the answers yet.