How Simone Biles Changed the Conversation on Mental Health
I know it’s unoriginal to say that Simone Biles is a personal hero of mine, but I’m happy to be part of that fan club.
I've been closely following her career since 2013 when she won her first all-around competition--beaming from the podium in braces. Her spunk and confidence were magnetic and I loved that she always did things in her own way. Best of all, she was a role model for young Black girls who did not see themselves well represented in gymnastics. Now they got to see someone who looked like them AND was the best in the world. It’s a joy to root for her, especially since she’s unbeatable.
There are so many people who felt personally connected to Simone for various reasons. I know that I felt more connected to her when I learned that she had ADHD. I think because she was so relatable, you couldn’t help but feel that you personally knew her. But the truth of the matter is, when we watch someone on the other side of a screen, we only see their highlight reel. We don’t actually know them as intimately as we think we do. Simone Biles performs her routines in front of millions of viewers during the Olympics and other competitions, but many people don’t think about how much adversity she’s actually overcome.
Growing up, Simone was in foster care with her three siblings. They bounced from home to home until their grandparents adopted her and her younger sister when she was six. Within the last few years, her fans also came to learn that she had been repeatedly sexually abused by a US gymnastics team doctor among 300 other survivors. There are so many layers of trauma to unpack from this abuse, and I often think how she had to continue working tirelessly for an organization that so badly betrayed her and failed to protect her and the other athletes.
Among everything she had been through, and publicly, she was now facing the added pressure to perform her very best on the world's biggest stage after the Olympic games were postponed due to COVID. To top it all off, her family and friends would not be able to join her to support her and cheer her on.
In the weeks leading up to the games, I watched all the coverage and cheered her on as she so bravely shared her story. Despite her being aptly nicknamed the Greatest of All Time, I couldn’t help but think she was dealing with too much to compete this year. My intuition told me that she might be putting on a brave face, but she seemed like she was struggling more than she let on.
I’ve been there. Not on the world stage, of course, but I’ve been in a place where I tried desperately to keep it together in front of others. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to a breakdown; to a place where I wouldn’t be able to hide it from others.
In April 2018, I had reconstructive surgery on my right ankle. It had come after 15 years of re-injuring that same ankle dozens of times-- five of which had been 3rd-degree sprains. I’m not a gymnast, but living life with a chronic injury had been so debilitating. When I described the pain I had, I felt like I needed to downplay it because people would think I was exaggerating.
Every time I injured it, I would fall into a spiral of despair. Why did this keep happening to me? What else was this injury going to ruin for me? An upcoming vacation, a work event, a wedding? It always seemed to happen at the worst times.
After my operation, the surgeon said he had no idea how I had been walking on it for this long because it was SO much worse than he initially thought. He said if I had fallen one more time, that it would have resulted in emergency surgery that would have been much more extreme. I spent the next year recovering and eventually learning how to walk again. It was easily one of the darkest times in my life.
Being strong physically and mentally is exhausting. When people saw me during that year, I went from wearing several different casts to eventually a brace to nothing at all. When I was wearing the boot, people stopped to ask me if I was doing ok. They offered to help me. But once that physical symbol of recovery was gone, I realized that no one could see my pain or struggle. It really reminded me of how I felt when I struggled with my learning disabilities and ADHD. If no one could see I was struggling, why would they ask if I needed help?
When it came to my learning disabilities and ADHD I would constantly tell myself I was fine. This was hard but just like everything else, I would put that pressure on myself to keep going and stay strong. I didn’t want anyone around me to think of me as someone weak or “in-Cape-able”. If I said nothing and held myself together, I could get by. The problem with that mentality is in the end, no one offers to help you because they don’t know you need it.
That’s why I love Simone Biles even more now than I did before. Simone Biles did the bravest thing she could have possibly done by sharing with the world that she wasn’t ok. Her mental health was suffering and instead of pushing through and potentially injuring herself, she stopped. She listened to herself and used her voice to say “I am not ok, I can’t do this and I need help.” That takes tremendous guts.
On the world’s biggest stage the “G.O.A.T.” reminded us that being the Greatest of All Time wasn’t just about what she could do on the floor, but what she could do off the floor. The message she sends to the world is more important than more gold medals around her neck. Use your voice to speak up and ask for help.
Thank you, Simone, for leading the way!
