How women's football is embracing mental health

Elite football has not always welcomed players' requests for help. Scandals, attitudes and support programs are changing that.

The one thing she couldn't do, Sinead Farrelly knew, was was to speak. Of course, no one had ever told him this explicitly. It was just something she understood. Football, for the first time, took place in what she can now call a "culture of silence."

The perceived delicacy of the sport meant that this principle was applied publicly almost as a matter of policy. Just over a decade ago, Farrelly and his peers were playing in professional leagues – first the W.P.S. and then, after its dissolution, the nascent N.W.S.L — did so, fully aware of its own mortality.

"You want the fans to come so the league can survive,” Farrelly said. . “You can’t share how bad the situation is or what the conditions actually are. We have to put on a show for the development of sport. You owe it to yourself, your teammates and future generations. For her, it was like "living a double life."

Something darker kept the omertà in place privately, between the players themselves. Years later, Farrelly would feel strong enough to tell the world what she had endured: years of psychological torment and allegations of coercive sex at the hands of the coach to whom she felt she owed her career. p>

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How women's football is embracing mental health

Elite football has not always welcomed players' requests for help. Scandals, attitudes and support programs are changing that.

The one thing she couldn't do, Sinead Farrelly knew, was was to speak. Of course, no one had ever told him this explicitly. It was just something she understood. Football, for the first time, took place in what she can now call a "culture of silence."

The perceived delicacy of the sport meant that this principle was applied publicly almost as a matter of policy. Just over a decade ago, Farrelly and his peers were playing in professional leagues – first the W.P.S. and then, after its dissolution, the nascent N.W.S.L — did so, fully aware of its own mortality.

"You want the fans to come so the league can survive,” Farrelly said. . “You can’t share how bad the situation is or what the conditions actually are. We have to put on a show for the development of sport. You owe it to yourself, your teammates and future generations. For her, it was like "living a double life."

Something darker kept the omertà in place privately, between the players themselves. Years later, Farrelly would feel strong enough to tell the world what she had endured: years of psychological torment and allegations of coercive sex at the hands of the coach to whom she felt she owed her career. p>

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