Before you roll your eyes and think to yourself that you were raised knowing you don’t quit things you’ve committed to, know that I was, too. And I generally still believe that! I wasn’t allowed to quit sports teams when I didn’t get along with the coach and had to finish my term in student council in 5th grade even after it wasn’t the ‘cool’ thing to do anymore. I genuinely struggled with the idea of letting our 4-year-old quit soccer in the middle of the season – Would she take this as a sign that if she whines enough she’ll get her way? Would this push her already strong willed little self even further that direction? But when it came down to it, I made the decision that I felt was healthy for her, worked for our family, and made things easier on her coach.
My husband and I were both soccer players. We both started at age 3, played in high school, and my husband played indoor and reffed college matches into adulthood. Our daughter has had a soccer ball at her feet since she could walk and would dribble it around the neighborhood. We would play in the backyard. We were READY for soccer…or so we thought.
What I didn’t take into account is how stimulating and overwhelming a soccer field can be. With a little girl who has had some sensory processing “quirks” and an anxious personality, the soccer field has people yelling, whistles blowing, kids running in every direction (and at her trying to steal the ball,) and is a high pressure situation. She ended up on a coed team with two little boys who had already played two seasons together, so they ran up and down the field passing back and forth and scoring 10+ goals a game all while she stood by the sideline crying begging to come off the field. The first game was actually the “best” one and it just went downhill from there – She would start crying as soon as I got her uniform out to get dressed, would beg to stay in the car when we got to the field, and would either stand in one place the entire time she was in the game or refuse to come back in after being on the bench. We would talk and reason with her about the next game all week leading up to it, but it never made any difference. It was a miserable experience for all of us since my husband and I would then get upset about her defiance toward her coach, and she’d already be upset about even being out there in an overstimulating environment and then completely shut down when she saw how frustrated we were.
Our family situation is one where weekends are our only time together – my husband travels nearly every week. I decided I was not willing to let every weekend be centered around a miserable experience at soccer, which put us all in bad moods for the rest of the day. Her coach was wonderful and we exhausted what we felt were all our options for trying to make it a better experience for all of us, so when the last couple games were going to be freezing cold and we knew that the team had enough kids for each game, we decided she was done. We didn’t make a huge deal about it by explicitly telling her she was quitting or that she got her way and didn’t have to go back – we basically just said soccer was done. And that was that.
As we’ve worked on her confidence and handling overwhelming situations, she’ll occasionally bring up soccer and mention that she wants to play again someday. We definitely weren’t ready this spring, but maybe we’ll try again in a few months. I think it’s great for kids to be in uncomfortable situations and to push past fears and grow, but I’ve found it’s a fine line to walk with my daughter’s anxiety. Right now, dance (an individual sport/activity) has been a much better fit for her – she has a teacher who has given her so much confidence and pride and has flourished there. I think we all know our own children best and know when to push and when to pull back, so while I’m sure I received some judgement for our choice, I’m confident in it and hope other parents have the confidence to do what they feel is best for their child. After all, we’re all doing the best we can and 4 year old soccer most definitely isn’t the end all be all for our daughter’s future.
