First newsletter- casual talk! What I've learned watching my son play soccer.
Lesson #1: No One Plays Well Every Day
Last week — sitting (or truthfully, standing, because I get too nervous! ) in the stands with a coffee in hand and a full heart — I realized something you may have felt too: how powerful it is to witness your child dream big.
For many boys and girls, soccer is more than a sport — it’s a stage where they project desires, test their courage, and choose their first heroes. And that’s where our delicate, crucial role as mothers — as women raising good human beings — begins.
I’ve learned that it’s not about hoping they’ll become the next Messi or Marta ( the brazilian biggest player). It’s about using that dream as a bridge:
to teach discipline without harshness,
commitment without blind pressure,
joy with responsibility.
Yes, we let them dream big — but we also help keep their feet on the ground. We show them that talent is beautiful, but character is what carries it.
We support our children in dreaming — but we also teach them that dreams aren’t magic. They’re a path. A path that demands training, fatigue, repetition. We help turn desire into discipline. We show them that losing is part of it, that not every goal is decisive, but every match teaches something.
We comfort them through lost championships, missed shots, the pre-game jitters. We hold them when they cry on the bench, and we cheer — just as loudly — when the smile of victory appears.
But… why doesn’t that apply to us?
Why, when we make mistakes, do we lack the same compassion?
Why don’t we celebrate our own goals — the days we were amazing even without applause, the good passes we made at work, at home, in life?
Why do we give up on our dreams after the first defeat, while telling our kids to hold their heads high?
Maybe it’s time to rethink that.
Maybe the greatest lesson we can teach them is this:
Keep dreaming — even as adults. Even when tired. Even when imperfect.
May we celebrate our goals with the same joy we feel in the stands.
And when we mess up, may we be our own cheerleaders: present, loving, unwavering.
After all, life is a long game. And no one plays their best every day.
But those who play with their whole heart? They’re never truly defeated.
And deep down, we learn from them too. Because no matter how many degrees or titles we have, there’s something profoundly inspiring about watching a child chase a goal with all their heart — may we also be willing to chase ours.
Lesson #2: Friends, Sports, Teamwork, and Work
A soccer match begins with 11 players on each side — no one enters the field alone.
Each one has a position, a role, a time to act.
There’s the one who defends, the one who creates, the one who finishes.
There’s the one who watches the whole game before making a move. The one who leads, shouts, guides.
And there’s the quiet one — who makes the perfect pass at just the right moment and changes everything.
It’s impressive how the game teaches far more than tactics.
It teaches about partnership. About listening. About respecting others’ places — and our own.
It teaches that we can’t do everything alone. And even more: we don’t have to be great at everything to be essential.
But as mothers, women, professionals… we forget this far too easily.
How many times have you felt alone on a crowded soccer field?
Created with AI.
Trying to defend, build, and finish the game of life — with no coach, no fans, no substitutes?
How many times have you felt the game getting too heavy, needing a break, but no one noticed — because you pretend so well that everything’s under control?
Soccer teaches that asking to step out is not weakness — it’s game intelligence.
It’s knowing your limit. Trusting someone will come in for you.
And realizing that even from the sidelines, you’re still part of the team.
In life, in work, with friends, at home: everyone holds a piece.
Each one defends a value, passes the ball when it’s time, retreats when they need to breathe.
Sometimes we’re the goalie — holding pressure at the back.
Sometimes the striker — leading, opening the way.
And most days, we’re just the midfield — keeping everything flowing with quiet precision.
But having a real team — one that sees you, hears you, subs in without judgment — changes everything.
On the field, at home, in life.
And if today you’re feeling alone, tired, lost in the middle of the game,
let this be your sign: ask for support. Ask to be subbed out.
Or just pause. Breathe.
You’re still in the game. And the game is still yours.
Lesson #3: The Wellness Performance (Spoiler: It’s Not About Constant Productivity)
Being “well” these days has become almost a role. A status.
Sleep well, eat well, perform well, train well, post well — preferably with a smile.
But the truth is, true wellness isn’t about performance — it’s about presence.
Some days, we’re on the bench. Watching. Tired. No ball at our feet, no applause, no visible wins. And that’s okay. Being benched is part of the game.
We’re not always ready to play.
That doesn’t make us any less valuable.
Frustration is part of it — for the kids dreaming of goals, and for us, dreaming of balance.
The kind of balance you see on social media that often isn’t even real.
We all break down like those coaches we see on TV — we just don’t show it.
After all, no one posts the VAR of their life.
(VAR = Video Assistant Referee, the one who checks for fouls and disallowed goals.)
Learning that you’re not always a starter teaches more about life than any productivity spreadsheet.
But wanting to be a starter? That can make all the difference in building your dream.
Kids’ soccer teaches us about listening, about humility, about waiting for the right moment to act — without rushing, but without giving up either.
Being well is often just knowing you’re still there
— fully —
even when the world isn’t watching.
It’s knowing that your presence matters.
That your body and your mind deserve pauses.
That wellness isn’t a result — it’s a relationship with yourself.
I hope you enjoyed and you come back!
Cheers,
Patricia Savoi.