You love your sport.
You’ve given it everything you’ve got.
You really don’t know anything else.
It’s who you are.
You work hard.
You’re committed.
You’ve sacrificed… probably more than you’d like to admit.
But lately, you wonder if your athletic dreams have become a great big nightmare.
Sports used to be fun.
You always loved mastering new tricks.
Friendship and laughter made practice a welcome home.
It was a great place to burn off all that excess energy after enduring the straightjacket of the classroom all day.
You felt “free” at the gym or on the field. You could be yourself.
You even had fun rivalries going with your older siblings. Your sport was like “the family activity,” bonding different generations with each other. Heck, in some ways, it was like the family religion. You’d all go to worship together from the bleachers on the weekends to cheer on the team.
Competitions were a blast. Travels across the state with your buddies made you feel like a touring band of rock stars. The team camaraderie and the pizza party after the game – even when you lost – all let you know that you were in this together.
Yeah, sports were fun. You knew you were growing, and you felt motivated.
Your coach was always there to teach you, care for you, encourage you, and support you through disappointment.
Practice and competition provided a nurturing context where you could become strong, connected, confident, creative, self-disciplined… even “mature” (with a silly side).
But then, something changed.
You can’t exactly pinpoint when or why, but it was kind of sudden.
Let me venture a little guess: Someone picked you out of a lineup and told your parents you had a lot of potential. You would do great things if they got you into the “right” coach’s hands.
There was a flurry of excitement and pride because someone thought you were special. Opportunity had knocked.
Soon, you had a new coach. And this dude was not impressed.
Things started to turn… dark.
(Trigger warning: Have your self-care strategies ready to go.)
The old encouragement you used to get in the gym turned into relentless critique.
Cheers turned into belittling insults.
Nurturing turned into intimidation, threats, and punishment.
Parents were removed from practice because they were a “distraction.”
Assistant coaches stood around with fear on their faces, keeping their mouths shut.
The only sound in the gym was the head coach yelling orders from across the room.
All the old laughter had turned to silence…
Smiling eyes turned into blank stares…
And confidence into self-loathing.
You started to feel worthless, powerless, and afraid.
You started to dread going to the gym. Stomach aches came more frequently. The stress became overwhelming. But you kept doing your best to avoid the coach’s wrath.
Injuries became chronic, but everyone was required to practice on them anyway. Because if you try to let your injuries heal, you’re weak and don’t deserve to work with “the coach who produces champions,” right?
Your friends started dropping off the team, one by one.
Oh, and the new coach thought you were fat. Maybe you hadn’t even gone through puberty yet, but you were fat. And to make sure you remembered that, you were given an array of pet names: “cow,” “pig,” or “horse.” Haha… it’s so funny, right?
It’s just a joke, so why are you being so sensitive?
You’re gonna need to toughen up if you’re gonna make it around here.
If you can’t cut it, you’ll be kicked off the team.
If you question what’s going on, you get 300 pushups.
If you speak up, the whole team gets rope climbs.
If you’re scared, you can “go cry to your mommy” and never come back.
If you’ve gained a pound during your designed-to-humiliate public weigh-in, you won’t be allowed to compete.
Parents, if you are reading this…
And your kid is going through this, get them out now.
Don’t deceive yourself that this is okay.
Don’t make up excuses that make it legitimate for your child to be abused.
If adults fail to resist the epidemic of child abuse in sports, then kids have no chance at all. Your kid needs YOU to be the grown-up.
You’ve got to help them find an alternative. You do not want them to endure the damage that’s just getting started.
The emotional, physical, and spiritual injuries to these little lives last far beyond the era of trophies and pigtails.
Back to you now, my fellow athlete.
I’m guessing your parents didn’t see any advice like that, didn’t think about it, or didn’t know what was happening.
And you didn’t want to tell. You were probably afraid of the retaliation.
Or maybe you DID tell, but nobody listened.
Or perhaps they did listen, but they thought YOU were the problem for not being tougher. I mean, come on – the coach was so “respected” and so “successful.” The problem HAD to be you, right?
Who are you to say or feel anything negative?
You’re just a kid. What do you know?
Don’t you want to be a champion? Well, this is what it takes!
You’re so lucky to get to work with this coach!
Maybe you even got to go to a sports psychiatrist (ya know… at age 12) to learn how to swallow the fear and the abuse better and perform well in spite of it all. Yeah, because if you obeyed better, you wouldn’t make your abuser so mad. You really should have worked on not “making” this guy (or gal – plenty of abusive female coaches out there, too) intimidate you, humiliate you, and force you so much.
If you wanted to know what’s been going on behind closed doors…
Outsiders, I think you’re getting the idea.
And, insiders, this story might be way too close to home, so I am truly sorry. I’m so sorry you had to experience anything like this without any way of defending yourself.
Listen, you did whatever you had to do to survive a normalized culture of abuse and an epic failure of ethics among every single adult in the room. It’s not your fault that no adult lived up to their responsibility to keep you safe, respect you as a human being, and care about you.
But here’s the thing…
You’re becoming an adult now.
YOU are the one reading this.
You’re old enough to question what’s been going on… out loud.
You’re old enough to seek the help you need.
You’re old enough to make your own decisions.
And I am here to support you.
I’m here to help you figure things out and make your own choices.
I’m a former club and NCAA Division I gymnast, and I know first-hand the good, the bad, and the ugly of competitive sports.
I will be a fierce advocate for your well-being and autonomy.
I will listen to you, take you seriously, and help you find your voice and choice in your athletic career and beyond.
I believe in your ability to make positive changes in your life. I believe in your ability to identify and resist the bullies and tyrants of the world… and to create a new, positive, empowering path for yourself.
I know life in sports, and I know ethics. Together, we can…
… examine the power dynamics you’ve been through in your sport.
… question popular sports mantras like “winning is everything” and “the ends justify the means.”
… discuss what differentiates a healthy and nourishing training environment from a toxic one.
… talk about what it means to treat an athlete as a whole human being rather than a mere performer, tool, or machine.
… discuss YOUR needs and aspirations as a whole person.
… increase your clarity and confidence about what integrity means to you and what your goals are in sports and life.
… think about how you can find a training environment that supports your needs and goals if you haven’t yet found one.
Coaches, if you’re reading this…
… and you want to create change in the culture, show yourselves!
Athletes need you to lead.
Speak your words, loud and proud.
Give your critique of toxic training traditions publicly, share your philosophy for reform, and show your example of positive coaching to the world. We need to find you!
And if you’re wondering what athletes and parents need to know about your approach to coaching, contact me, and I will happily tell you!
Back to you again, dear athlete…
I am encouraged that some coaches are committed to positive coaching, healthy training environments, and healing past abuse. They want to make culture change real.
We can discuss how to identify respectful and caring coaches, what questions to ask, and how to join forces with them to create a healthy experience — for you and all the other athletes out there.
Let’s take your sport back… and your life, too.
Let’s talk more during your free consultation call.
Note: I typically work with college age athletes, 18 years and older. I’ll consider younger athletes on a case by case basis. If you are a parent of a younger athlete, I am happy to consult with you about how to best support your child and find the resources they need.