My USA adventure — Part 1

Omg guys, for me, the USA was the best thing that could have ever happened to me!! … And I mean it. In this series, I’m going to explain to you why.

Where to start, really? I guess it'd make sense to start at the very beginning — when I first picked up a hockey stick.

I was only five years old when I started playing. My first stick was a tiny, pink Stag (and my parents still have it). I think it's safe to say that from the very beginning, I was a good athlete: hungry for the ball, full of spirit, always determined to win.

Over the years, I improved my skills, moved to better clubs, got selected for national development teams, and started fueling a dream. To me, the dream was “making it.” And that meant winning gold for the Netherlands at the Olympics (and scoring the winning goal 😉). I was willing to give everything for that glory.

Off the field, I wasn’t particularly studious. Don’t get me wrong — I was intelligent — but my focus was hockey. School felt secondary, something I could put on hold.

Naturally, as puberty hit, I started realizing there was more to life than just field hockey (sound familiar?). My dream slowly lost its shine. By this point, I had neglected school and dropped two levels in the Netherlands education system (VWO Tweetalig → VWO → HAVO), mostly because of the time and mental energy I dedicated to my sport.

By age 17, I felt lost. My hockey career wasn’t going as expected, my grades were slipping — what was my future going to look like?

Then, in the spring of 2017, the universe, God, or chance — whatever you want to call it — sent me a blessing I could never have imagined.

On a random Tuesday, the Northwestern University Field Hockey Team from Chicago came to play a friendly scrimmage at my club in The Hague. And my life changed that day.

After the game, the coaches asked if I’d be interested in playing in Chicago — going to school, living on campus, and most importantly to me; starting fresh with a new opportunity.

My answer? Absolutely. Not three months later, I was preparing for my first solo flight to the “land of the free, home of the brave.”

But just when I thought destiny was playing out perfectly, a new challenge came my way… During the last game of the season — my final game in the Netherlands — in the national championship final, I tragically tore my ACL. Two months before pre-season in the U.S.

My heart sank. Not only was the injury painful, but I also worried I’d never return to my previous level of play. And would I even make it to Northwestern?

Luckily, the coaches at Northwestern were incredible. Regardless of my injury, they urged me to still come and welcomed me with open arms. They paid for my surgery, supported me through rehab in their amazing facilities, and encouraged me to start school so I wouldn’t fall behind academically.

So, at 17, with my suitcase, a torn ACL, and a lot of fear, I boarded the plane. It was scary, but even then, I knew this was going to change my life. And it did.

Nine hours later, I landed in Chicago and was welcomed by people who would become family. My adventure in the U.S. had officially begun.

To be continued…