Ciara McCormack feared apathy most of all. She didn’t worry about blowback from either the Canadian soccer federation or the Vancouver Whitecaps. She might have, once, but she no longer worried about the consequences. The past decade had taught McCormack, now 39, that there was limited appetite for uncomfortable, inconvenient stories like the one she had to share. So she hesitated before hitting the post button, fingers hovering over the touchpad on her laptop.



She’d been writing in the cafe of her local Whole Foods, and she took a cookie break, hoping it would steady her nerves. While waiting in line to pay for her treats, a voice piped up behind her: “Are you Ciara McCormack?”



McCormack wheeled around and recognized the girl as a fellow former Canadian youth international. They’d been in different age groups, but that’s the type of bond that lasts. They chatted about their lives, ticking down the list of potential common...