A Trans Athlete's Resilience: Playing Women's Semipro Football Against All Odds

Saturday nights under those blazing stadium lights in Western Connecticut can make all your worries vanish. In that moment, it seems like nothing else matters but being in that game.

Lately, there's been so much noise—election disappointments, controversial policies, and anti-trans legislation that tried its hardest. Yet, standing there, I've found a sense that grounds me, despite those attempts by an administration that wants me out. I'm still standing, firmly planted in my identity and my right as an American.

A safe haven on that field

For me, that football field feels like a refuge. It's a place where I'm not alone, surrounded by teammates who all play their part. My coach likes calling it "your one in 11." This week marks my third season in Connecticut's Women Football Alliance, kicking off against New Hampshire Rebellion right at home.

Two months back, I was worried this season would never happen because WFA had rules that made it hard—or impossible—for transgender women like me. Those rules, restricting play where legal protections exist, have forced some players out entirely before they even had a chance. But here I am.

Encouragement came from many quarters, including Jacqueline Taylor Cook from Pittsburgh Passion. She's an absolute force on and off-field. But she, too, felt crushed enough by these policies that she decided not play this year.

The personal becomes political

The issue with trans athlete rights hit home hard when WFA put its anti-trans policy in place. Football used be my escape, my form self-care. Now, it's tangled up in politics. I can't help but think about everyone who's still playing, hoping they're getting all support they need.

I often think about college athletes like Sadie Schreiner. They should be focused on winning championships, not worrying about getting sidelined. It makes me upset seeing high school athletes caught in political crossfires.

When I'm not out on field or working on sports stories, I'm at Trans Lifeline. There, I hear from folks as scared as I am—wondering when this will all end, if it ever will.

The looming bans weigh heavy, but my team rallies when doubt knocks me down. Their support means everything. It reminds me we're all "one in 11" together.

Finding refuge in playing

Football, like all sports, has become my sanctuary. During those two-hour practices, I can block out all negativity and fear—a bold message that I am here, and I'm not leaving.

"Self-care" varies from person-to-person. For me? It means mastering pass blocks, understanding offensive plays, and bonding with teammates while we hit and tackle.

As we dive headfirst this season, there's excitement in air—a nighttime game with scoreboard flashing 0-0. I stand beside my sisters on this journey; we share those moments, sporting pads and cleats. I push aside any fears about being trans, concentrating instead on finding pure joy in playing, just like kid who fell hard love with all this 40 years ago.

So, yet again—to critics and fellow trans athletes alike—I say: I'm here. I'm playing, and nothing will change that.