Lily's Story: Moving Freely Again
An ACL injury needed more than physical therapy to fully recover.

The Situation
The speed and intensity of soccer demand complete trust in the body. No one knew this better than Lily. Lily was a standout high school midfielder, known for her quick cuts, aggressive tackles, and fearless play. College recruiters had already noticed her talent, and she dreamed of playing at the next level.
But during her junior year, everything changed. Lily tore her ACL while making a sharp cut on a counterattack. Surgery and rehab followed, and after months of hard work, her doctor finally cleared her. Physically, her knee was strong. Her physical therapist reassured her that she had regained full stability and strength. On paper, she was ready.
But on the field, her body told a different story.
“When I’d go to cut or make a tackle, I’d freeze,” she said. “Even though I knew my knee was healed, my chest would tighten, my legs felt heavy, and I’d hesitate. I’ve always been an aggressive defender. I wanted to play the way I used to, but my body just wouldn’t let me.”
Her coaches encouraged her to trust her training, and teammates reminded her that she was “a beast." But the fear remained. No matter how much she tried to talk herself into confidence, her nervous system betrayed her.
The Breakdown
In our first session, I asked Lily when she first remembered feeling that hesitation. She didn’t have to think long.
“It was during a preseason practice the season following my injury,” she said. “I went to cut on my left leg, and I felt this panic, and my knee hesitated. My movement was delayed and slow. It was weird because I knew my knee was strong, but my mind refused to agree.
"Even though I kept silently screaming to myself, 'You’re fine; go!' My body refused, and my knee felt like it didn’t belong to me. I could see a player dribbling towards me, but I just couldn’t make myself move the way I used to. I was confused and angry—like I couldn’t trust my own body.”
That experience had lodged itself in her nervous system. It wasn’t just a memory—it was a physical response. The trauma of the injury created a neural network, wiring fear into her movements. Each time she approached a cut or a tackle, her body “remembered” the injury and triggered panic, hijacking her natural ability.
The Shift
Using a trauma-based approach to performance concerns, we went back to that moment. Through EMDR, with bilateral stimulation from a light bar and pulsators, Lily’s brain began reprocessing the experience.
At first, the emotions were sharp. She felt the same fear in her chest, reported tension in her body, and had the same sense of helplessness as we processed the experience of her injury. But with each pass of reprocessing, her brain began to shift. The old associations weakened, and her nervous system calmed. The memory no longer carried the same power over her movements.
As the distress faded, we installed new, empowering beliefs: "I can trust my body. My knee is strong. I am safe and in control." We then prepared for future challenges, rehearsing calm and confident responses to cutting, sprinting, and tackling.
The Result
By the end of our work together, Lily noticed the difference. She cut hard in practice without hesitation. She tackled without fear. Her movements flowed again.
“I feel like I got my game back,” she told me. “I’m not afraid anymore. I trust my knee, and I trust myself.”
Lily’s knee had healed. Her nervous system hadn’t.
CUTS STARTED FEELING DANGEROUS
HESITATION REPLACED INSTINCT
HER BODY STOPPED TRUSTING ITSELF
When that fear untangled from the injury, her movement flowed again.