Finding worth in your role
Redefining success, impact, and identity in the transition to college athletics
It’s not about the size of your role; it’s about the size of your impact in that role.
In 2022, two of my teammates and close friends, Megan Bornkamp and Ally Lynch, set out to create a platform at Clemson University with the mission to "humanize athletes by providing a space where they can truly define themselves most authentically and genuinely." After a year of hard work and dedication, Beyond the Paw was launched.
I was honored when they invited me to be one of the first athletes to contribute. Their message was to share my story or something meaningful to me. As I sat down to write, I felt a mix of gratitude and responsibility. I knew this was more than just a story; it was an opportunity to express something deeply personal. After a week of self-reflection, multiple drafts, and even a few tears, I submitted "Your Impact."
Though the piece was never publicly released, I was later invited to be a guest on the Beyond the Paw podcast, hosted by Megan, Ally, and Tori Niemann, my greatest role model and mentor. It was my first time speaking on a podcast and my first time openly discussing the thoughts and experiences I had put into writing. I was nervous about how people would respond, but the reaction was more than I could have imagined. In the weeks after the episode aired, I received messages from teammates, coaches, friends, and even strangers who shared how much the conversation resonated with them.
That moment changed everything for me. Once my thoughts were out in the world—on paper and through conversation—I realized I could no longer just think about these ideas; I had to live them. My words had weight, and I had to hold myself accountable. That conversation wasn’t just about my experiences—it was about identity and worth, about how I had tied so much of my self-value and happiness to playing time, stats, and external validation. Speaking openly about my journey on the Clemson Women’s Soccer team forced me to confront the pressures I had placed on myself and redefine what it truly meant to contribute.
I began to see success differently, not as something measured by minutes on the field, but by the impact you have on your teammates, the team, and the energy brought to every moment. That year, my junior season, became the most fulfilling of my life. Not because of statistics, but because of how much I enjoyed the process, how present I was, and how I embraced my role within the team.
Since then, this realization has shaped My Why—in leadership, in teams, and in every group I’ve been part of. Writing Your Impact forced me to redefine success, not just for myself, but for those around me. It reinforced my belief that leadership isn’t about accolades, but about the influence you have on the people in your circle. This experience showed me that every role on a team carries immense value.
I hope this story encourages you to reflect on your own journey—to look beyond the numbers and expectations, to embrace the role you play, and to understand that your impact is far greater than you might realize.
Your Impact
A common metaphor used in the athletic world to depict the transition from club/high school sports to collegiate is moving from a big fish in a little pond to a little fish in a big pond. Basically, getting recruited to a competitive school such as Clemson because you were deemed talented at a young age means you are inevitably going to be brought into a program with people just as talented and more so than you.
I verbally committed to play soccer at Clemson when I was 14 years old. At the time, I was playing at Charlotte Soccer Academy as a starter and a captain with little idea of what it would take to physically “survive” in a bigger pond as a little fish. Upon my arrival to campus 4 years later, I knew even less about the emotional strain it would take to shift the narrative of my identity and find worth serving a different role for my team.
From playing sports at such a young age, a lot of my identity was wrapped into my performance and quantifiable statistics. If I had a “good” game Saturday morning, the rest of the day would go smoothly. I believed I was worthy of playing at the highest level because I started every game, made the score sheet, and clocked low minutes on the bench whilst growing up.
My parents instilled in me the core value of effort. In my childhood bedroom there was a poster on my wall that read:
“Hard work beats talent when talent fails to work hard”
That mindset shaped everything I did—whether in school, relationships, or in sport, I gave it my all. By giving my everything, I found myself attaching to the highs and lows of achievement. I tied my happiness and self worth to outcomes. Being a big fish in the little pond of high school and club soccer, I rarely ran into trials where my effort and talent were not enough to see concrete results in playing time and performance.
During my first two years at Clemson, I fluctuated between being a sub, starting, or recording no time at all in a given game. Within the inconsistencies of playing time, I lost part of the identity I had created in making a tangible impact on the field for my team. Selfishly, I thought I could only accept a win if I played a notable part in the group’s performance. I had feelings of worthlessness and embarrassment on the low minute games and felt on top of the world when I earned a start. I fell to the pressures of social media, family, and friends, feeling like I let people down when I did not play or had a subpar performance. This impacted my mental health, relationships, and my ability to continue to be a leader on my team, something I take with the utmost pride and responsibility.
What took months of frustration, confusion, and self-reflection to realize, was that my worth as a person was never determined by my performance as an athlete, and my impact did not have to be physical to be felt within the team. I learned that impact isn’t about scoring goals or playing time. It’s about the way you push your teammates in practice, the energy you bring to the locker room, and the support you give on and off the field. Your impact is completely individualized and is based on influence—how your hard work and attitude propel the people around you.
What the internet, score sheets, and outside influences do not see are the intricacies of roles within a team that it takes to be successful. Leadership isn’t about statistics or results, and playing time isn’t the only measure of value. In focusing on the numbers and trying to impress those external to the culture of your team, you become dead weight on a boat that needs every paddler. You will feel lost in relying on decisions outside of your control to create your identity.
When I stopped searching for validation and started embracing my role, I felt every win just as deeply as those who physically scored. I fell in love with the game again and I became excited show up every day to play my part, however that looked. That is the gift of being part of a group working toward a goal unattainable by an individual. I take pride in knowing that my hard work pushed and prepared the players around me, that my communication gave strength to those in doubt, that my positivity helped build unity, and that whenever I was called upon, I was ready to step into whatever position my team needed. That was My Impact.
Within the pond of your team, you do not have to conform yourself to being a big or little fish. Instead you can find value in the size of your impact. Every contribution, on the field or not, helps shape the team. It’s not about the size of your role; it’s about the size of your impact in that role. It is when you put aside the expectations of being the same player you have always been that you will morph into the person you were meant to be. By focusing solely on what you have to do to push your team towards its most productive self, and forgetting about those judging by results, you’ll uncover the lifelong rewards of being part of something bigger than yourself. Because at the end of the day, a team’s success isn’t defined by any one player—it’s built on the collective impact of every individual embracing their role.
I encourage anyone feeling lost in their athletic identity to take time to confront the struggle that is dissociating your worth from the numbers you grew up striving for. I encourage you to lean into the process of growing into and accepting your role so that you can feel the joy that comes with seeing those closest to you reach their highest potential. Most importantly, I hope you never forget the value of Your Impact.
MAKE YOUR IMPACT!
I believe people are always happier when they live outside themselves.
Such a great message! So lucky to be a small part of your journey and cheer you on along the way!