Queer Role Model: Abby Wambach
Dani Glass
When I thought about my queer role models, Abby Wambach was one of the first to my mind. Not even as a queer role model; she was simply a role model! I had looked up to her and admired her long before either one of us was out of the closet. Back in the days of playing youth soccer, when the US Women’s National Soccer team was in transition from the time of the “99ers” (Mia Hamm’s generation) and into a new round of young, promising rookies, Abby Wambach was always one to watch. From her first appearances, up at the top of the field alongside Mia Hamm, to her role as captain, and her record setting goal-scoring abilities, she was mesmerizing. An absolute powerhouse who, truly, changed the game of women’s soccer. Any soccer fans out there know exactly what I’m talking about, and if you’re not a soccer fan, know just that she was one of the most inspiring, impactful, game-changing athletes ever to play the sport.
I grew up watching Abby play, mesmerized by her game. All aspects of it: the way she used her head, the way she used her feet, her sheer ability to put the ball in the back of the net, her rise to leadership on the field, the way she lifted other players up, and the ways she carried the history of US women’s soccer and continued to elevate its place on the national and international stage. As a player, she was a gift: to her teammates, to the game itself, and to the millions of young girls who watched her rise.
All this to reiterate: Abby Wambach has been, simply, an incredible role model for much of my life. Now, long after she’s been out as queer, I can say that she is a queer role model, but her “role-model-ness” doesn’t rest on her identity as someone within the queer community. It rests on her character, her choices, and who she chooses to be.
So that begs the next question: who does Abby Wambach choose to be? Now, the only person who can really answer that question is Abby Wambach herself – or maybe the people closest to her. I can only pretend to be in that circle, but from what I know, she is a person who is reflective, she is an activist, she is a powerful supporter of the people she loves. She is imperfect and flawed, but more importantly, she is someone who owns those imperfections and flaws and seeks to understand herself, her past, and create the best life she can.
With the release of her memoir, Forward, in 2016, she detailed many of the struggles she’d faced in her life, from the “normal” (if we can call it that) challenges of being a world-class, top-performing athlete on a world stage, to the personal struggles with self-acceptance and substance abuse. She reflected honestly on her DUI from previously that year and opened up about the difficulties of moving from place to place throughout her career, always on the go and with very little time or ability to feel settled. The book was triumphant in terms of her successes on the field, and truthful without being arrogant in the portrayal of the work and sacrifice it had taken to get there. It was also honest, self-critical, and heartfelt when it came to experiencing addiction and the DUI. In a world where substance abuse and addiction are all too often seen as character flaws and personal failures instead of medical issues, she risked much of her reputation by being so honest and reflective. But that’s exactly why it was so powerful; it can be so, so difficult in our world to acknowledge our challenges and our mistakes, but she never shied away. It gave me all the more respect for her as a person – not just as a soccer player.
In the past few years, on the podcast she hosts with her wife, Glennon Doyle, called “We Can Do Hard Things,” Abby has continued to be forthcoming about all her experiences on and off the field. Including, but certainly not limited to…what it was like to come out as a well-known athlete, and what it felt like to cut off her long hair on the world stage. What it was like to get injured and miss the 2008 Olympics as the leading scorer on the team and watch the team go on to win the gold without her. How it felt to win a World Cup in 2015. What it was like to retire and have freedom, physically and emotionally, from a career that constantly told her where to be and when, how to train, what to eat, and more. The process of becoming part of a blended family, navigating into the role of a parent helping to raise three children. And the list could go on and on from here. Listening to “We Can Do Hard Things” makes me feel like I know Abby – and it has given me all the more appreciation for her.
Abby Wambach’s accomplishments are many and multifaceted. She is a world-class athlete, an activist, a parent, an author, the host of a podcast. She is a marathon-runner, a partner, a visible member of the queer community. For all these reasons, and so many more, she has always been a role model to me. The fact that she happens to be an out, queer, public figure adds to the reasons I admire her, but it’s not just because of that. It’s because of her ability to reflect honestly, be vulnerable, and own her mistakes as well as celebrate her successes. Abby, if you ever read this, I hope you know the impact you have had on one of your biggest fans since your international debut in 2001. THANK YOU!
