How I Found Love On My Queer Soccer Team

Lucy and I were texting a lot late at night. As teammates on a women’s and nonbinary rec soccer team in LA gearing up for a tournament in Buenos Aires, we’d been becoming increasingly closer friends over the last few months. The intimacy of our friendship had now reached the point of talking every night at bedtime, not unlike two people crushing hard on each other.

But somehow, I was completely unaware of my crush on Lucy at first. We played on a queer team, the West Hollywood Soccer Club (WHSC), and Lucy was gay, but I had always identified as straight. Growing up I’d felt glimmers of attraction toward certain girls in my orbit—classmates, teammates, Zoe Saldana in Drumline—but I was also interested in boys, and our heteronormative culture subliminally pulled me toward a straight understanding of myself.

Deep down, though, I knew I wasn’t as straight as I had been telling myself (which is likely why I was drawn to WHSC in the first place), and I started to examine my sexuality. Was it much more nuanced than I’d been allowing it to be? Was it something that had been socially conditioned in me that could be deconstructed? The answers to these questions became clear the moment I first saw Lucy in Buenos Aires.

I was anxious and clammy, but not confused by my feelings in the slightest. If anything, it suddenly all made sense.

I felt my crush on her physically swell in my chest as her friend group walked toward mine. Oh, my God, I thought to myself, aware of how I truly felt about her for the first time. I have a massive crush on Lucy. We avoided eye contact, both of us too nervous to acknowledge the other. I was anxious and clammy, but not confused by my feelings in the slightest. If anything, it suddenly all made sense.

Pursuing a teammate can be tumultuous territory. Queer sports spaces are notorious for hook-up and relationship messiness, and our team has had our fair share. Other players had dated each other before, and there were two sets of couples actively on the team. I knew trying to get with Lucy would affect our team dynamics, and the stakes were high. What if things didn’t work between us? And what would everyone think about the “straight” girl on the queer team coming out? But I was so sound in my feelings that I felt grounded and calm in spite of these swirling anxieties. I deeply trusted and loved my teammates, and I knew they’d be able to handle whatever would come with a potential relationship with Lucy. The reward far outweighed the risks, and hey, we were on a trip overseas with our queer soccer team—this sort of thing was bound to happen between two of us, right?

We were all on a trip overseas with our queer soccer team—this sort of thing was bound to happen between two of us, right?

I plowed forward in actualizing my queerness knowing my friends and family back home would also be supportive. The privilege of being able to blossom into queerness without a second thought is not lost on me. I was raised by old-school hippies in a liberal east coast city, and have a queer older sister who paved the way for me to come out without hesitation.

Throughout the 10-day trip, I was getting promising signs that my crush on Lucy was mutual: late-night text banter back and forth, passing with each other during warm-ups, catching each other’s eyes at team outings. One night while we gathered in the hotel bar before dinner, she motioned for me to sit on the armrest of her chair. The next day when our team was leaving for our game, I grabbed her soccer bag for her as she dashed out to buy water. When I gave it to her on the bus, she grinned at me with her sage green eyes glinting. I plopped down a few rows away to cool off.

At a team dinner midway through the trip, Lucy sat next to me and we gave each other sips of our cocktails. I wore a leopard-print mini skirt and was keenly aware of our thighs pressed up against each other under the table. “What do your tattoos mean?” I asked her, cringing at my own cliché question. Did the same rules of flirting with guys apply to girls? I wondered. With men, I usually felt like I had the upper-hand, but women are more emotionally intelligent and astute. I needed to bring my A-game, but I was feeling pretty JV in the presence of Lucy.

After dinner, Lucy and I found ourselves in an Uber alone back to our hotel. Our bodies melted into the back seat, nearly touching, and I hoped this would be the moment she made a move, but it never came. Was I imagining that she was into me too? It was clear something was happening between us, but I spiraled not knowing exactly what it was.

I was adamant that whatever this was would resolve before the trip was over. On our second-to-last night, Lucy went to dinner with a group of teammates and I tagged along with a different crew to a grungy gay bar. A few drinks into the evening, Lucy surprised me there. She took me into one of its empty side rooms and with the slightest hint of a question, said: “So, you’re straight…?” My mind was a giddy flurry of tequila and nerves, with my body so hot that my velvet tunic was sticky on my skin. I fumbled for a response. “I mean, I have been,” I said. “But I don’t know. Maybe not.”

She didn’t break eye contact with me for a second. “So what do you want to do? Continue what we’re doing? Or something more?” she asked. “I would like to do more,” I replied. She smiled and pulled me into her. We kissed, hands in hair and on velvet. It was the first time I’d ever kissed a woman, but that felt beside the point—what mattered was that I was kissing Lucy.

It was the first time I’d ever kissed a woman, but that felt beside the point—what mattered was that I was kissing Lucy.

We eventually made it back to our hotel where we found a remote corner of a hallway to prolong the moment. I kept pulling away to look at her in delighted disbelief, her hair wild, cheeks rosy and radiant. My buzzing nerves gave way to a new type of joy I'd never felt before, bursting through me with each touch.

The next day, I sat between Lucy’s legs in the stadium stands at our men’s team’s game. It felt like this was exactly where I belonged, leaning back into her, the sun pouring warmth all over us. We were surrounded by our teammates who had all connected the dots, excitedly whispering to one another at the sight of us touching. When we got back to LA, we started dating and made it official a few months in. Our relationship was met with nothing but joy from our teammates, who all seemed thrilled that their two friends make each other so happy.

It’s been almost a year since our relationship budded in Buenos Aires, and I've never felt more secure and in sync with someone else. Unearthing my true sexuality has been an identity awakening, more than worth the potential repercussions that come with dating a friend and teammate. I’ve locked into place not only with Lucy but with myself, accessing a sense of clarity and confidence that can only come from discovering another dimension of who I am, and falling in love.