How long have I been a gymnast? Take a guess.
If you guessed 10 years, then you should go buy a lottery ticket ASAP.
I've been a competitive gymnast for 10 years. And now, it is all coming to an end.
I've thought a lot about quitting for a long time. I've thought about how much I've wanted to quit when I got really serious. I've thought a lot about how my last day would feel--glorious, sad, or something else.
Gymnastics started innocently when I was 6 years old. At my school, parents had the option to enroll their kids in gymnastics classes instead of P.E. My parents chose to not enroll me, but the instructor saw how much I wanted to be a part of the class, and included me anyway most of the time. And I fell so incredibly in love. I loved how it felt to point my toes, to hold a handstand for a millisecond, and stick a cartwheel. I had been given a tiny, tiny taste of the world of gymnastics, and it was much too late to turn back now.
Eventually, I joined a gymnastics class at a gym. I was a 7 year old in a class of 16 year old girls. This didn't bother me, because I was finally doing the sport I loved.
This gym didn't work out and I left a few months later. I had been out of gymnastics for a few days when my mom told me I was going to try out at another gym. I remember feeling incredibly reluctant to go to this practice, but I was pulled along anyway. Little did I know that I would spend the next 9 years of my life growing up in this gym.
I finally got to experience what it was like being a part of a team. The support you receive from being on a serious team was something I had never experienced before and it made me feel like I was part of something great. Here I was, 9 years old, and I was on an absolute high. Competing at level 4 with my best friends, with coaches that cared about me so much, and parents that loved cheering for me at meets.
The years passed, and I moved through the levels somewhat slowly, but thoroughly enjoyed them. In the back of my mind was this drive to become an optional level gymnast, meaning that I would be able to make up my own routines at that point because the skills were increasing in difficulty. Optional levels started at level 7, and I was only 2 levels away.
Sure there were many happy moments and challenges along the way to this goal, but nothing major until just after I turned 13. It was then that gymnastics as I saw it at that point took a dark twist.
My current coach decided to give her position over to someone new, who could make our team even more experienced and competitive. This guy coached alongside the world's best coaches and was truly exceptional. He was going to change everything, for the better. I still have the paper that I was given announcing this:
"Although change may be uneasy, it can be the beginning of GREAT THINGS to come!!"
He changed everything, all right; little did anyone know what this man was truly capable of. He would scare off everyone on the team except for me and another girl. Little did anyone know that he would severely batter and bruise a vulnerable, sensitive, and confused girl who already had a multitude of worries on her hands. And little did anyone know how much this girl suffered quietly and horribly--for an entire year.
Perhaps I will go into more detail that wretched year in another post, but it all culminated in an extreme emotional breakdown and in his being fired. Finally, I could move on.
Well, it is somewhat ironic, but that year he worked with me, I was at my career best. The next four years consisted of two more coach changes and ultimately slowing down a bit as my academics picked up.
I did reach optional levels. In fact, I reached level 8 (there are essentially 11 levels in gymnastics, levels 1-10 and elite). When I think about it, I'm thoroughly surprised and proud I made it this far. It was an extremely difficult journey, and I have reached a level of this sport that many little girls aspire to reach. I cannot fully describe to you how I felt that first day that I realized that I was something of a role model to the gym's younger gymnasts. That day, I had just finished doing a skill I did not particularly like. As I looked up from landing, I noticed a young girl separated from her class, just standing there, staring at me in awe. There was a sparkle in her eyes that spoke I want to be just like that.
From then on, I noticed other kids doing that. And how they would occasionally come up to me and tell me that I was cool. And how their parents would do that too. And how I felt like it was all worthwhile--how I was inspiring something, no matter how small, in people by just doing something that I saw as basic.
In the end, I cannot stress how much I have thought about quitting, switching gyms, or trying something new. How many days I stood in the gym, exhausted and feeling incapable of making it through another 3 hours of practice, just thinking over and over Why am I here? Any other sport in the world would have been so much easier. I cannot stress how much I hated gymnastics that year with the horrible coach. How I dreaded every day, every second, every skill during that time. I regained some joy with the sport for a while after that, but for the past two years, I've been dying to get out. I have thoroughly wrestled with this sport; it has been a constant uphill battle.
So why did I stay in gymnastics this whole time? Why did I choose to stay when I might have been a whole lot happier without it? When all my friends had quit and I spent my days on a team of girls significantly younger than me--why did I stay?
I believe I stayed because, ultimately, if you know in your heart that something is right for you, you will stick with it. You will stay through the pain, the joy, the tears, the injuries, the pressure, the stress, the scrutiny, the feelings, and the losses. The tests and the triumphs. You will stay because you inherently know that this is right for you. That you wouldn't be the same without it. That this thing is you. It is your core identity, and you understand that no matter how difficult it is, it is who you are. And you guard who you are, with everything you have, for as long as you can. Because you know you will be a completely different you once you lose this identity.
As I look toward my last day in just a week, I have mixed emotions. But I will have satisfaction in that I gave everything I had to this sport, and this sport gave me everything that I am in return: strong, disciplined, and hard working. Gymnastics also gave me an endless list of other things, both positive and negative, but it has ultimately shaped me into the girl I am today. For that reason, I owe everything to gymnastics. It has truly given my identity, and I would be nothing without it.
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