Today, I’m talking about a topic that has been on my mind (heavily at times) since I graduated college seven years ago (feels crazy to even write that!): Life After College Athletics. For those who are heavily involved in sports and athletics their entire lives, graduating college and suddenly being without something you’ve known your entire life can bring on anxiety, sadness, anger, and even depression for both men and women. You’re suddenly without something that has been such a monumental part of your life.

Through sharing my thoughts in this post, I’m hoping that more athletes will start to talk about what this transition from college athletics to post-college life is really like and what they’re going through. You don’t have to be alone with your thoughts in what might be a challenging time! Continue reading below to read my post – Life After College Athletics: What No One Talks About.

Life After College Athletics: What No One Talks About

This is a post I’ve been wanting to write for years, yet have struggled to get down on paper. For some reason, I’ve had some idea in my head that whatever I talk about on this blog, also has to be paired with “cutesy” advice. And truthfully, I’m not sure if this is something I have advice about – but more or so something I want to talk about and want others to start having conversations about as well. Especially your teammates, former teammates, coaches, trainers, your therapist, or even your advisor.

Blogging is a funny thing because there’s a mixture of people who read your posts who know you from “real life” and people who do not. The fact is that most people that read my blog posts and look at my Instagram posts probably do not know me in “real life.” So I’ll start from the very beginning! Keep in mind, this is a long one, but to truly understand, I think you need to hear the entire story from the beginning.

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Growing up, athletics were a huge part of my life. I grew up dancing ballet around 4 and continued until I was about 15. But even more so, gymnastics was my life (literally, it felt like it). I started around the age of 5 or 6 and continued until I was about 15.

I grew up knowing very well about making sacrifices – or at least what feels like major sacrifices when you’re just a kid! Every day after school I would run home, grab a quick snack, and then my mom (or another gymnastics mom if we were carpooling) would drive me and a teammate to the gym where we would then spend our afternoon and nights until 8PM (about 4 hours of practice). This was 4+ nights a week and often, my weekends were also filled up with gymnastics or dance. I either had a gymnastics meet (sometimes hours away), practice, or I was helping teach dance to younger children.

Looking back, I often wonder how my parents (and so many other gym parents) did this for about a decade. It’s insane how much driving they did (the gym was a 30 minute drive each way), how much support they provided us with and how much “cheerleading” they did for us. They would wipe our tears, be our best hype man/woman, and sacrificed so much of their own lives for us. Back then, I’m not sure I knew how much they were sacrificing, but as I’ve become older, I definitely realize it and am so thankful.

Eventually, long story short (I’m cutting down 10 years into a few sentences), my body kept getting hurt and my doctor would advise me to take months off at a time in attempts to heal (mostly stress fractures in my legs). This cycle repeated itself at least 2-3 times in my last years of gymnastics. I would take a few months off, go back, get hurt again, and repeat the entire process. This was around the age of 14 when my body was rapidly growing and I could no longer physically (or mentally/emotionally if we’re being honest) take the demands of the sport.

Going into my freshman year of high school, I decided that I wanted my life back and quit gymnastics. It was the hardest decision I had ever made in my life up until that point. I wanted time to hang out with friends. To be able to go to sleepovers on the weekends. To be able to relax at home for more than 30 minutes at a time. To eat dinner at a normal hour and not at 8:30 PM (my parents probably wanted the same!). To be able to get homework done without crying over it at 10 PM because I was so physically and mentally tired. I wanted time to be a real teenager.

After quitting gymnastics, I felt lost for a bit, but quickly needed to figure out something else to do. My parents were always the type to not allow us have much free time. We would either be participating in a sport each season or we would be working. This is something I’ve grown to respect them for because it kept me out of trouble. After many phone calls from the high school cheerleading coach to my mom, I was convinced to try out for cheerleading.

I ended up making the team. At first, cheerleading was completely out of my comfort zone. I hated it and wanted to quit, but my mom wouldn’t let me (in her defense, I hadn’t even given it a chance). I went from being in a sport where it’s an unwritten rule that you shouldn’t show many emotions to one where something you’re being graded/judged on is your expressions. In cheerleading, you can actually lose points for your team by not smiling!

Everything about the sport felt difficult and scary at first. I didn’t understand a lot of the verbiage and spent a lot of my time looking at others on my team so I could figure out what I was supposed to be doing, ha! I ended up sticking with it throughout high school and truthfully, learned to love it even more than gymnastics. My teammates felt like sisters and we were actually really good, but we also worked our butts off.

Junior year of high school, somewhere, I heard about a competitive cheerleading team called Maine Event which was out of Lewiston, Maine. This was an all-star cheerleading team – think of it as AAU for cheerleading. The best of the best in the state come together on a team to compete against other teams (mostly from other states). We traveled to Boston, Rhode Island, Virginia, Maryland, and other states to compete against other all-star teams.

I was in the best shape of my life that year since I was participating in school athletics and this all-star team, plus track in the spring months! I learned so much and surrounding myself around some of the best coaches and athletes in the state was both rewarding and humbling. I had never worked harder, but it felt like it was paying off and I truly enjoyed every moment (minus the long, hour and a half drives each way).

This year was also the first year that I started thinking to myself, “Okay, what’s next? Could I really do this at the next level? Do I even want to?” I eventually decided that I wanted to and only applied to a couple colleges. I got in contact with the University of Maine cheerleading coach which was one of the potential colleges on my list and visited a couple practices.

I ended up not getting into the other college that I applied to, so the University of Maine it was! It seemed like a great fit and I would also be able to continue cheerleading for the football team, basketball teams, and on the competitive team, which was the side of the sport that I loved so much.

Throughout college, I had so many amazing experiences. Balancing both college athletics and school was a great challenge and something that I enjoyed. Plus, being able to live with your friends – it’s the best. Ohh, I miss parts of college 🙂 . My team practiced almost every day and often had 6 AM workouts or I would go to the gym either before or after practice to get in a light work out. I was busy 24/7, but loved every minute of it. But I also had a lot of time to have fun.

My senior year didn’t go exactly the way I had hoped from an athletics perspective. About a month before our only competition, NCA Nationals in Daytona Beach, Florida, I injured myself at practice. It was a skill (a full twisting layout) I had performed many times. I landed with all of my weight on one leg and instantly felt pain. I walked it off, went to get water, thinking I would be able to hop back into practice in just a few minutes, but the pain continued. Days went by and I was still hobbling around. Soon, weeks went by and I was still struggling to get around, let alone throw skills at practice, but I tried to get it out of my head. I iced my leg 24/7.

I knew I couldn’t go to the doctor because it felt bad enough that I would probably be done for the season, and we only had a few weeks left. Cheerleading isn’t like other sports where someone can sub in for you. Most of the time, there are a couple alternates, however, they are not worked into the routine and it’s extremely hard to replace someone completely. Plus, I’m stubborn.

I ended up performing at my last NCA Nationals, but in a huge amount of pain. I had to “dumb down” many of my skills since I couldn’t physically perform them due to the injury. When I arrived back in Maine after NCA Nationals, I immediately got off the team bus and drove myself to the hospital. Turns out my leg was broken.

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I share a lot of this story because I think how my athletics career ended left a lot feeling unresolved for me. I was angry. Sad. Probably depressed. You name it. This wasn’t the story I had told myself in my head about how everything would end. And yet it was my reality. I felt I had let my team down. Let my coaches down. But worst of all, let myself down. I was so stuck on how things should have played out.

Back at school in the weeks following, I was at first, happy to have a break for what felt like the first time in my life. I was hobbling around school (and the college bars) with a splint which was really dumb in retrospect, but it was my senior year and everyone would be going their separate ways in just a few months so I wanted to enjoy it (I think I described it as YOLO at the time… lol. Throwback).

Once graduation came and went, everyone moved back to their home towns or where they were starting the next chapter of their lives. This meant moving back home with my parents which I’m very thankful I had the opportunity to do (I saved so much money that way). But I don’t think anyone truly prepares you for just how hard it is to up and move everything you’ve known for the past four years. Not only are you leaving all of your friends and what feels like your entire life, but you’re thrust into the “real world” for the first time. Yes, I worked summer jobs since I was 15 or 16, but I still don’t think I had any sense of what the “real world” was like. None of us truly get it until that college chapter is over.

But hardest of all? And the part I don’t think many former college athletes talk about- for the first time in my life, I had nowhere to be. And that was really, really scary at the time. I didn’t have something I felt part of. I didn’t feel like I was working towards something. Sure I was trying to find a job, but that doesn’t compare to what it’s like to work with a team and the sense of accomplishment that goes into nailing a skill or winning a game. Not only that, but there’s something to be said about spending time with others who know EXACTLY what you’re dealing with. They know the struggle of balancing school and practice. They know the exhaustion. They know your struggle. There was always something about that that felt comforting to me. I missed the sense of community. The independence. Everything.

The only way I can describe my experience in the year following college was that I was mourning some type of loss. I didn’t feel like doing anything. I laid in bed all the time. Even applying for jobs felt like something that took every amount of energy in my body. I could barely force myself to do it. I knew I should have felt excited for the next chapter of my life, but I didn’t.

It sounds crazy and this entire post has actually been really hard to put into words, but I spent probably three to four years after graduating college, sad and in denial that my athletics career was over. Every time I would see some of my old teammates (who hadn’t graduated yet) post on social media about practice, a game, or preparing for Nationals, I would be upset. I felt like I was missing out. But it was beyond the point of FOMO. I couldn’t seem to move on. Perhaps this is a lot of college athletes – perhaps it’s just my challenge with anything that involves change. 😏

The biggest thing I missed was a sense of belonging and a sense of community. Having a purpose. Of course, I had my family but that’s a completely different sense of community. I even had to figure out how to go to the gym and do real workouts. I know that seems absolutely insane and probably a bit entitled. Call me crazy, but practices were essentially my work outs every day. Yes, I would go to the gym every so often, but I’m talking very basic cardio and free weights type exercises. I didn’t know how to actually put together a work out and how to truly get in shape without being involved in a sport. It felt beyond boring. It’s embarrassing to admit that, but it’s true.

What helped me? Going to workout classes. I didn’t necessarily go with a friend, but I would go consistently for every single class that was offered of a particular HIIT class I loved until I felt like I had my own little workout community. And time. A lot of time. Finding a new hobby. This blog. In many ways, creating this blog is something that came out of all of the struggles in this post. It gave me something to put all of my energy into. Like I said at the beginning of this blog post, I put off posting about this because I was nervous about what people would think. I know a lot of this is rambling, but I want those of you dealing with this to know you’re not alone!  ❤️

What I hope and envision for the future is that college athletics programs have counselors to aid athletes in that time between graduation and “real life.” Saying goodbye to something that’s been such a huge part of your life… your entire life for many…. is not easy. But you will get through it and you will find your purpose again. If you’ve dealt with something like this, I’d love to know your thoughts in the comments! ❤️