To Play or Not to Play? My ACL Journey and the Dilemma of Returning to Soccer

Fifteen months ago, I was lying on a soccer field, clutching my knee in pain after a reckless tackle during a women’s masters league match. The verdict was swift and gut-wrenching: a ruptured ACL. Like so many women before me, I was suddenly staring down the long road of rehab, patience, and hard decisions.

When I saw my orthopedic surgeon, he didn’t sugarcoat it. Because of my age (ouch), and the fact that I wasn’t an elite athlete (double ouch), his advice was conservative treatment rather than surgery. In that moment, it stung—I wanted to fix it, to just get back to playing the sport I’ve loved since I was a kid. But I trusted his judgment, and 15 months, countless hours of physio, and an enormous amount of grit later, I finally have the green light: I can play again.

But here’s the question I can’t escape: should I?

My sister Melissa—my co-founder at Hero Athletica and my lifelong soccer partner-in-crime—has been gently (and sometimes not-so-gently) pushing me to get back out there. Last season, she fractured her scapula in a heavy collision and spent months recovering on the sidelines. And yet, as soon as she could, she was back on the pitch. That’s Melissa in a nutshell—resilient, determined, and unwilling to let injury stop her from playing the game she loves.

Last weekend, while I was in Perth, I went along to watch her play in her Masters women’s competition. Honestly, I thought the experience would ignite the fire in me again, that I’d leave the field desperate to lace up my boots and rejoin the game.

But what I felt was the opposite.

Watching from the sidelines gave me a perspective I didn’t expect. The game was physical—brutal, even. Challenges were heavy, collisions were frequent, and as much as I know that’s always been part of the sport, I couldn’t ignore how confronting it felt when I wasn’t in the thick of it. And then, the worst moment came: in the second half, Melissa went down hard after a late challenge. She didn’t move. She appeared unresponsive. For what felt like an eternity, she lay still on the pitch, and I felt sheer panic wash over me.

Eventually, she came to, but she was concussed. No free kick, no whistle—just another game day in women’s masters football. Now, thanks to concussion protocols, she’ll be sidelined for three weeks.

For me, that moment was a gut punch. I realised how fragile this game can be, how quickly joy can turn into fear. After all, my ACL injury happened just three games into my return after a 20-year hiatus. Now, with one major injury under my belt, what would happen if I went back? Could my body, my confidence, and my family handle it if something worse happened?

This is the dilemma I’m facing right now. On paper, I’m ready to play again. My knee is strong, my physio has signed me off, and my boots are sitting there, waiting. But emotionally? It’s not that simple.

Soccer has given me so much—friendship, fitness, freedom, confidence, and community. But it’s also taken its toll, and as I stood on the sidelines in Perth, I couldn’t help but wonder: maybe my love for the game doesn’t have to mean playing it. Maybe it can mean supporting from the sidelines, celebrating the bravery of women who step onto that pitch week after week, and helping more girls feel confident to play, no matter what level they’re at.

So here I am, caught between longing and fear, pride and doubt. It turns out that returning to the game I love so dearly isn’t as clear cut as I thought. But maybe that’s okay. Maybe this is just another chapter in my relationship with soccer—different, but no less meaningful.

—Danielle
Co-Founder, Hero Athletica