Have you ever had one of those moments where you think, “I can’t believe I just said that”? That’s been happening to me a lot lately—ever since I became a soccer mom. Yep, a phrase I never imagined myself saying. And not just any soccer mom—the kind who embarrasses her son by screaming from the sidelines while proudly holding a posterboard collage I made the day before at Kinkos. Yep, that’s me.

Let me back up a bit. You may remember me mentioning my neurodivergent son, the oldest of my four boys, who’s almost sixteen. He’s faced challenges integrating into social groups and organized activities throughout middle school. So, we made the bold decision to send him to a specialized boarding school for ninth grade, which continued into his current year in tenth grade.

Up until this point, sports weren’t his thing. Past attempts to get him involved in athletics left him feeling defeated and us feeling heartbroken. So when his school announced they were starting a “varsity soccer team,” I didn’t give it a second thought. It clearly wasn’t for Will.

Imagine my surprise when he returned to school this fall and, within a day, asked me to order him some cleats. “Hmm… okay then,” I thought, as I quickly ordered a cheap pair from Amazon, assuming this was just another short-lived phase.

But then the evening calls started coming. Stories about wins and losses (mostly losses), evening practices, weekend games, pizza dinners at the headmaster’s house, and selfies in his first-ever uniform. Most importantly, he talked about fun experiences with his “teammates”—a word what was never part of his vocabulary.

As I often share in my workshops, social connection is the single biggest predictor of happiness, according to Harvard research. I post about it monthly, talk about it weekly, and teach it daily. Yet I was still floored by the dramatic transformation in my son once he felt like he was truly “part of the team.” The advantages of learning to play soccer as a team were much more social and emotional than physical.

As a parent of a child on the spectrum, you dream of them finding belonging—of meeting their people and feeling comfortable enough to just be themselves. Franklin Academy understood this on a deep level and intentionally created this experience for every child, regardless of skill level. Each student was encouraged to choose their number, show up to practice and join the huddle. Things that they never thought they’d be doing.

So back to that sideline. While I never pictured myself as the loud, poster-waving soccer mom, I’ve embraced it wholeheartedly. Watching my son find his people, step onto the field as a teammate, and experience the joy of belonging has been one of the most rewarding experiences for both of us.

Will’s journey has been a powerful reminder that being part of something bigger than ourselves can elevate us in ways we never expect. In a world where loneliness is at an all-time high, it’s more important than ever to find our people, our teammates, and our tribes. Whether on the field, at home, or in the workplace, it’s in those shared moments that we build the deepest relationships and a true sense of connection.

As we move into 2025, I encourage you to seek out your own community and work toward something bigger together. It’s through these connections we find personal growth, increased satisfaction, and resilience. Here’s to finding YOUR team in the year ahead.