In 2006 I had stood with my team mates at the end of the World Cup final watching New Zealand take the title after a game that we could have won. In 2010 I had to watch my opposing captain from New Zealand take to the podium and lift the cup after we lost by three points. But in 2014 I watched England win a World Cup final, three years after I retired. I’m proud of those women, but I still feel bitterness, jealousy, and immense hurt.
Had England not won without me in 2014, my own 2006 and 2010 World Cup Final wounds would be two scars I would feel proud of. Instead, they make me ashamed. Now that England Women have won the World Cup after my time I feel that my battle scars are worth nothing. Because what do you really win for coming second? How do I get over this? How do I find purpose and a direction in my life that makes my battle scars worth the pain? Do I cover them up? Do I take a new path? Or do I use that pain as fuel to power me on?
These people are helping to fund Mud, Maul, Mascara: How I Led My Country, and Lived to Tell the Tale.