Lacy, oh Lacy 🎀

Pointe Shoes to Footy Boots

'Excuse me?'

Gia almost died. She imagined her headstone: 'Gia Ivy-Rae Lee, choked on air in her physiotherapist's room.' 

The room around her turned blurry and she grabbed onto Dr. Michelle's desk for support. 

'I'm sorry Gia, you've gone too far this time. You won't be able to dance anymore.'

Every noise became distorted, every beam of light filtering through the room winking at her. She was underwater, taking in the moment that her life was turned upside down. She felt a sympathetic hand against her shoulder but couldn't even turn to face her mum. Her life was over. Her entire career - 16 years of ballet, over in a heartbeat. She would never again laugh at the bald spots, wince as she stuck hundreds of hairpins into her bun, scowl as her stockings as they caught on her costume and ripped into ladders, or cry in pain over the red blisters lining her feet. She would never stand at the edge of the curtains, her breath in her throat as the soundtrack to Swan Lake played, or be blinded by the spotlight that chased her around the stage.

You won't be able to dance anymore.

She remembered all too well; the moment her heart stopped as she heard the faint snap and felt the click of her bones grinding against each other. She remembered, clear as day, falling to the stage, clutching her hipbone in pain. The audience gasped alongside her as she was carried into the curtains, excruciating pain shooting through her left side.

'Hip Labral Tear.'

She felt tears prick the corners of her eyes as she watched her dream drift away from her fingertips. She had endured so much, fought so hard to try to return to normal, only to be told that she would never again wear satin slippers on her feet. She had faced plasma injections, surgery, weeks of Tylenol, and crutches. But it was all over now.

***

'Excited to play Soccer? You'll be a Matilda in no time!'

Gia couldn't help but roll her eyes at her dad's false optimism. So far, she had already tried out swimming, tennis, netball, and golf, with no accomplishment. 

She was the slowest in her lane, focusing on pointing her toes and maintaining clean lines in the water rather than trying to pick up her pace. She had climbed out of the pool, scowling and wrapping a towel around herself angrily as she sneezed against the chlorine. The tennis ball always seemed to find its way to her face, and she had been hit by the ball more times than she could hit it. Realising that she and the ball were in a toxic relationship after narrowly missing her nose, she retired from the court and moved into the shade. Netball was the trickiest. She couldn't understand why she couldn't just bounce the ball, or take another step. Why was she restricted by painted lines? Why was she so severely punished when she held the ball for 3 seconds? Golf was the most boring. Gia, her parents, and her older brother, Anton the golf expert had spent a good 7 hours tracking through a golf course. She had become bored after the first twenty minutes. It was so repetitive - hit the ball, watch the ball, walk to the ball. 

She left the game and sat in the club for the rest of the day, watching a replay of a recent football match. She was interested.

'It's football, dad. Thanks, but we both know I'll only last a good 30 minutes before I get sick of kicking a ball around.'

She had slammed her bedroom so hard the windows rattled, and stayed in her dark cavern of sadness for a week. Her worried mum had entered her room, stealthily avoiding heaped piles of old clothes and mountains of food packaging to reach Gia, where she was rotting away beneath the blankets.

'Gia? It's time to move on.'

Her dad reached over to ruffle her hair.

'Come on, walk in there with that killer smile and killer attitude and smash it. You never know, you might love it.'

She rolled her eyes at his sentiment but couldn't resist a smile as he pecked a kiss on her forehead before waving her out of the car. She sighed deeply and stared down the building before her. Kellyville Kolts Soccer Club.

It can't be that bad.

***
To sum it up, it was great. Beyond great. Pointing her toes wasn't a problem, unlike swimming, and in fact, Gia found that it helped her aim the ball more accurately. She walked out of the footy centre into the sunset and practically skipped to her dad's car, replaying her first goal over and over again in her head. Her first-ever touch had been terrible - she had aimed for her new friend, Georgia, and accidentally kicked the ball into the ceiling where it had become stuck against a bunch of pipes. However, as the session progressed, she could feel herself becoming more confident. The ball actually made it to other players. In the final hour, the coach had made the girls play a 'practice match,' being sorted into yellow and purple teams and shrugging on bibs that reeked of stale sweat. Gia had kicked the winning goal for the Yellows, calling themselves the 'Daffodils.' She had raced around the training centre, doing a cartwheel before hugging her new team mates as they celebrated her first-ever goal.

She couldn't wipe the huge grin off her face as she climbed into the car and stared at her dad.

'Dad, we did it. I think I found it.

***

That night, Gia pulled aside her curtains and opened up her windows for the first time in months following the devastating news. The full moon beamed at her, and she smiled as she climbed beneath her covers, dreaming of footy boots and a green field.

+ I literally just found out Phoebe Tonkin does ballet. Our talented Aussie queen 👑