I was told to stop playing Football and get married | By Kaviya Pakkirisamy

In my village, when a girl crosses 18, people don’t ask what she wants to become. They ask when she will get married.

By the time I reached that age, I had already played senior nationals, junior tournaments, and represented my state. Still, I was told to stop. I was told I had grown up. I was told football was enough now.

But football had only just begun for me.

I first started liking the game when I was in the fifth standard. After school, I wouldn’t go home immediately. I would stand on the sidelines and watch my seniors play till 5:30 in the evening. I didn’t even play then, I just watched.

When I was in sixth standard, the coach told me I was too short to play football and asked me to try kho-kho and athletics instead. So I did. I played kho-kho, and when there were no other players left, I moved fully into athletics. I ran the 100m and 400m, won medals, and even competed at the state level.

That’s when the same coach noticed how fast I was on my feet and called me back to football.

Things went well for a month. Then the talks started.

People in my village began asking why a girl was playing football, why my parents were allowing it, why I was wearing “short dresses.” I went to my mother and asked her if she would let me try once. I told her that if things didn’t work out, I would listen to whatever she decided after that.

She agreed.

Slowly, when people saw that I was playing well, their tone changed. Relatives started encouraging me. Even now, some villagers still talk against it. I don’t know when that will change.

When I started, I didn’t have anything. No boots. No stockings. No extra jerseys. I used one jersey for two years. My boots would tear, and I would stitch them up again and again just so I could keep playing. At that time, I didn’t even know what Nike or Adidas were.

By 12th standard, I played senior nationals and junior tournaments and won state matches. Despite all that, the pressure at home increased. I was told I shouldn’t play anymore. In villages like mine, girls are married off once they become adults.

I asked my mother if I could at least complete my studies first, and then we could decide everything else later. That’s how I continued.

After I joined college, I went to Bengaluru to play for Kickstart FC. It was my first time travelling so far alone. My mother was terrified. She kept asking who would take care of me, how I would eat, and whether I would be safe. I kept telling her that everyone there would help me and that I would call her every day.

In the five years with Kickstart, I only went home for Deepavali. I skipped Pongal many times. My mother stayed back with my sister and brother and rarely got to see me. It was very hard for her.

Bengaluru was challenging at first, the language, the distance, but the people were supportive. Later, when I moved to Sethu FC, it felt like coming home.

In 2019, when I first started playing in the Indian Women’s League, things were very different. All players stayed in one place. Food, sleep, recovery, everything was difficult. Now the league has improved a lot.

With IWL 2 and more competitions, even junior players are getting opportunities.

Even then, not everything has been smooth.

I tore my ACL on my birthday last year. At first, I didn’t even realise how serious it was. I was in good form and wanted to perform well. Suddenly, I couldn’t walk. It took nine months before I could step back on the pitch, and the pain was unlike anything I had ever felt.

Since I was injured, I wasn’t called back to the national team. When the team qualified for the AFC Asian Cup, I wanted to make a strong comeback. Honestly, I didn’t expect myself to play this well because many players fade away after an ACL injury. I'm ready to give everything for the club and country.

My mother has never seen me play in person. I’ve been playing for 12 or 13 years now. She watches matches on her phone, but even then, she looks less at the game and more at whether I’ve fallen or gotten hurt. That’s what she asks me about when she calls.

My parents are separated, and now I help take care of the house. My mother’s name is Selva Mary. Everything I do, I do knowing she is always worrying somewhere.

I don’t know when society will fully change. I only know that I kept going, because football was the one thing that felt truly mine.

And I wasn’t ready to give it up.

As told to Aswathy Santhosh