Walking out of the gym that day, I didn’t realize I would never again feel the pain of the rips on my hands after training on the high bar for hours. I would never again feel the soft carpet of the floor greet my feet as I came down from the air and would never again experience that boost of serotonin after successfully finishing my routine. I had given my all to the sport throughout my childhood, and all I had left was a hole in my soul and a party trick.

I was a gymnast for 11 years of my life. My memories of growing up are synonymous with my progression of skills throughout the years, advancing from basic to complex to intricate. It was the pinnacle of my identity – I was known at my school as the gymnastics kid, and I would constantly get asked to do ‘tricks’ for my classmates. It was always a rollercoaster of emotions, but it was my rollercoaster of emotions; I embraced the joy, anger, fear, frustration, pain, pride and disappointment that came with the sport. 

As I got older, the fire in my belly the sport once ignited began to fade. My priorities were changing, and I realized that I could no longer keep up with the expectations the sport placed on me. I started to resent going to practice and my relationships with my coaches and teammates were diminishing. When COVID-19 hit and my team switched to online workouts, I quickly lost any remaining motivation to continue, and gave the sport an Irish goodbye. 

Despite my anticlimactic ending, I still had strong feelings of emptiness and a lack of fulfillment. I finally got the freedom from gymnastics that I had craved for years, but I didn’t know how to navigate my self-image. Gymnastics had defined how I viewed myself both mentally and physically. I quickly fell into an identity crisis, questioning how I could define myself moving forward. 

I decided that I needed to be able to change my perspective on leaving the sport. Although cliche, I told myself to focus on my positive experiences as a gymnast, and tried to reminisce on the good times rather than ruminate in the emptiness. I started to explore my world beyond gymnastics by taking on new hobbies, spending more time with those important to me and focusing more on my academics.

Most importantly, however, I talked about my feelings with my parents and close friends. I realized I didn’t have to keep my emotions bottled up, even if my situation was unique. Being able to share my experiences and learn from the hardships helped me process my relationship with the sport, which helped my mental health rebound. 

It’s a hard process, but it’s possible to fill the hole and navigate your life and schedule in the absence of your sport. Honor the time and commitment you put into it, but let it take a backseat as you enter into a new chapter of life. Allow the emptiness and freedom to coexist in your mind, and use how they make you feel to create a newer, better version of yourself.

Herman is a Plan II and Psychology freshman from Southlake, Texas.