Separation Between Self-Worth and Performance

By Sami Derrico | IG: sami.derrico 

Before I began college athletics or even the journey to become a college athlete, I thought I knew myself. I knew enough about myself to know what I found joy in, who I liked being around, and what I wanted in the future. I knew that I was always certain of soccer.

After I established that within myself and shared it with others, that’s how everyone else began to view me. I was always asked how soccer was before how I was. I didn’t think anything of it until the first thing that people thought of when they thought of me was soccer. It became my identity especially after I made a commitment to play at a collegiate level.

After I committed to play at a high level, I prepared myself for the next part of my life. I trained my physical body and my mind to be prepared for all the situations I was told I would experience. However, after attending college and being put into COVID isolation for five weeks, knowing no one and only being welcomed by a few, being put in countless situations making me feel unseen and disregarded, and learning how to hold it together in the coaches office till after I left or I was alone in my room so no one would see - I realized I was in fact not prepared. 

At some point, far before I could realize it, I let someone else or something decide my worth. Most of the time it was a game, a score, a performance, a stat, or a coach. I let this consume me and it became the only way I saw my worth. I did that for so long, I lost the person I was. I was no longer living for me, I was living to make other people happy, proud, to fulfill their image of me, and to make myself happy with others' perception of me.

I knew I was not seen as enough - fast enough, strong enough, good enough.

My identity was shaped into a soccer player, so who was I without it?

 I didn’t want to return to school for the second semester of my freshman year but I was terrified and unable to tell people what was happening or how I was feeling, so in January I returned to campus.

Part of the pressure felt from being an athlete comes from yourself and it's easy to fall into a downward spiral. My mental health declined so my field performance would too, then my mental health would worsen again because of that - it was a constant cycle. But as an athlete you are taught to stand right up if you get knocked down. You don’t wallow and suffer - you get up and run. And for the most part only the highs of an athlete are showcased or talked about, never the lows. I never wanted to let anyone in to see my low points I was facing as an athlete. Over that first year of college, I fought for a long time but when you get knocked down enough times, I just wanted to stay down and was tired of fighting. I took a last strike and broke. I believed I was a burden to everyone in my life. I did not see how I could add value to someone's life and I did not like the life that I was living. I knew that if I shared what I was feeling, the pain and thoughts I was suffering, I would only feel more of a burden.

My mom showed up one day at school and I am so thankful that she did. When I saw her I broke all over again cause there was no sticking it back together anymore or pretending like I could. I told her everything I was feeling and the minute you open up to the right person the feeling of being a burden is lifted.

That year I experienced a different kind of hurt when I had to fathom a future I did not imagine and was forced to change my path. Hurt or fear - that was my choice - stay in the hurt or embrace the fear of not knowing what the next step was.

A week after seeing my mom I entered the transfer portal.

Through the transfer process, I learned a lot about myself and what I wanted out of my college experience (and life). Prior to leaving, I made a promise to myself to never let a coach, a stat, or anyone decide my value. I was playing a game and that's what it is supposed to be - a game, a ball on the field, and nothing more. 

At that moment I would never think I would be able to say something like this but I am thankful for my struggle. I learned that you cannot grow without healing but you do not heal without suffering.

Now, I thank myself on the days where my mental health is strong and am even thankful for it in the moments when I don’t feel close to strong. I thank those around me for how they helped me along the way, and the new people in my life that give me a lift when I need one.

I didn’t realize I didn’t have to be alone.

Every single person knows what it feels like to struggle; to fail, feel fear, anxiety, pressure, and some level of depression at times. Those challenges are such an ingrained part of life, especially for athletes, that it is not worth hiding them.

Nobody is truly alone in what they feel (it took me feeling alone to realize I wasn't).