From the moment Aliyah first stepped onto the soccer field, she knew she had found her passion. She loved the rush of competition, the feeling of making a crucial save as a goalie, and the camaraderie that came with being part of a team. Soccer wasn’t just a sport to her—it was an identity, a source of pride. But as she moved up in competition, that pride started to feel more like pressure.
Aliyah wasn’t the fastest on the team. She wasn’t the strongest, either, and compared to many of her thinner teammates, she felt like she stuck out in all the wrong ways. It didn’t take long before she started to notice the comparisons—not just in her own mind, but from the words of those around her.
The Pressure to Measure Up
From a young age, Aliyah understood that goalkeeping was different from the other positions. While field players relied on endurance and speed, she relied on her reflexes, agility, and ability to read the game. But despite the distinct skills needed for her position, her coaches often grouped the entire team together when discussing training and nutrition. When her teammates were encouraged to eat less in order to increase their speed, the same advice was given to her—even though she wasn’t running up and down the field for ninety minutes like they were.
She remembers one specific preseason meeting when the team’s coach outlined an “ideal” diet plan. “Lighter players move faster, and we need everyone to be in peak form,” he said. Even though the statement wasn’t directed at Aliyah specifically, she felt as though all eyes were on her.
“You’ll need to cut back if you want to improve,” a coach told her after one conditioning session. “Carrying extra weight won’t help you in the goal, either.”
The comment stuck with her. Though she had always been comfortable in her body before, suddenly, she wasn’t so sure. She began comparing herself to her teammates more and more, especially those who seemed effortlessly fast and fit. Even though she had always performed well in her position, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was failing at some invisible standard.
The Harmful Cycle
Determined to “fix” what she believed was holding her back, Aliyah started making changes. She cut back on her meals, choosing smaller portions even when she was still hungry. She skipped breakfast on game days, convincing herself that playing on an empty stomach would make her feel lighter. She started working out more outside of practice, pushing herself to exhaustion in an attempt to keep up with her teammates.
The irony was that the harder she pushed herself, the worse she felt. She was constantly fatigued, her reactions slowed, and she started feeling dizzy during games. She knew something was wrong, but the fear of being seen as out of shape kept her from speaking up.
The Breaking Point
One afternoon, after an especially grueling practice, Aliyah felt her vision blur as she walked off the field. Before she could make it to the locker room, her legs gave out beneath her. She woke up minutes later with her coach and teammates hovering over her, panicked expressions on their faces.
The team doctor told her that she was severely dehydrated and undernourished. Her body wasn’t getting the fuel it needed to perform—not just in soccer, but in everyday life. That moment was a wake-up call. She realized that in her pursuit of being the athlete she thought she needed to be, she had been harming herself instead.
The Road to Recovery
Aliyah knew she couldn’t continue down the same path. With the help of a supportive teammate, she sought out a nutritionist who specialized in athletes. For the first time, she learned about fueling her body in a way that supported her position as a goalie rather than trying to meet a one-size-fits-all standard.
She began focusing on strength and agility rather than fixating on weight. She relearned how to listen to her body’s hunger cues and stopped associating food with failure. It wasn’t an easy road—undoing years of harmful comparisons and negative self-talk took time—but slowly, she found herself falling back in love with the sport for the right reasons.
Now, Aliyah is using her experience to advocate for others. She speaks out against harmful coaching tactics and encourages young athletes to understand that there’s no singular way to be an athlete. Being strong, being capable, and being confident should never come at the cost of physical or mental well-being.
A Message to Athletes
Aliyah’s story is, unfortunately, not uncommon. The pressure to conform to a certain body type in sports—whether it’s soccer, dance, gymnastics, or any other discipline—can be overwhelming. But every athlete deserves to be valued for their abilities, not just their appearance.
If you’ve ever felt pressured to change your body to fit an unrealistic ideal, know that you’re not alone. Aliyah’s journey is a reminder that no sport should cost you your health. Coaches, teammates, and athletes alike need to recognize the impact of their words and foster an environment that values performance and well-being over harmful comparisons. Because at the end of the day, the best athletes aren’t just the fastest or the thinnest—they’re the ones who are healthy, strong, and confident in themselves.