“You’re not living up to your potential.” Those are probably the scariest words anyone has ever spoken to me. I’ve spent my entire life running as fast and as far as I can, trying to grasp that elusive goal. It seems like I should be able to do it – after all it is my potential – and yet I never quite get there.
My teen years were a blur of trying to always be ten steps ahead of where I was. I couldn’t be thin enough or smart enough or fun enough to represent the real me. College was worse. I never got so much as an A- and was Valedictorian of every graduating class I’ve ever been in. I gave my Valedictory address with an IV catheter still taped to my hand because I’d worried myself literally sick about what was next. How do you top 6 years of hyperachievement?
Mostly it was fear. Because the corollary of “you could be so much more” is “you aren’t good as you are now.” And if straight A’s and scholarships and slim hips wasn’t good enough then what was I going to have to do to get there? Could I possibly do anymore? Perhaps I was just dumber and fatter and lazier than people realized. Maybe I was at my full potential and they were the ones who didn’t get it. But I didn’t dare tell them lest they be disappointed in me.
It was with this attitude that I approached everything in my life, including gymnastics. Have you ever loved something with your whole being – so much that you dreamed about it and cried about it and read about it until you were so full of it that you couldn’t bear it all – and then not been good at it? I was a competitive gymnast. I practiced gymnastics up through my sophomore year of college. And I sucked. I’m not being modest.
I never made it to a level 10 (the highest competitive level) much less the elite level. I flailed and fell. I broke my foot three times in six weeks in the same spot doing the same trick. I was too tall and too heavy. I lacked the grace and skill that is characteristic of the sport. But I loved it. Oh, how I loved it. That feeling of flying under nothing more than your own power is magnificent. I still dream about it to this day.
But for all the flying there is even more falling. First of all, everything in gymnastics is measured deductions. Unlike other sports where you start at zero and then get credit for what you do, in gymnastics your routines are ranked at what score you would get if you performed everything perfectly, at your full potential. And then every little wobble, kneebend and misstep is deducted from that perfect mark. From the second you step onto the spring floor (you do know that floor has two-foot steel springs underneath it, right?) people are subtracting you.
It doesn’t stop with the scoring. “The less you weigh, the higher you fly,” was the motto at my gym. They never encouraged disordered eating outright but the constant weigh-ins in front of your teammates surely made even the strongest girls consider it.
Jennifer Sey, 1986 US National Champion, outlines this dilemma perfectly in her new book Chalked Up: Inside Elite Gymnastic’s Merciless Coaching, Overzealous Parents, Eating Disorders and Elusive Dreams. (Seriously, how did that title get okayed by an editor?? That’s not a title, it’s a freaking plot summary.) In it, she details the tragedy that can occur when you take very young girls – gymnasts usually peak by 16 – with competitive, perfectionistic personalities and put them in a sport that demands nothing short of everything.
In the most heartbreaking moment in the book, Jennifer recounts how her highest gymnastic achievement – winning the national championships and becoming internationally ranked – was turned into just one more failure. Sporting two black eyes (covered for the cameras by makeup) and an open head wound sustained from a fall on the beam due to living for months on 500 calories a day while enduring 7 hour workouts, along with a shattered ankle and a broken-and-never-healed femur that required cortisone shots before every event, she was told that all of it meant nothing unless she made the Olympic team. Which would have meant maintaining her grueling workouts for another two years. Broken, battered, abused and eating disordered, she walked away from the sport she loved because even after everything she’d sacrificed, she still wasn’t good enough.
I wish there was a happy ending to this story – she did get married and have two kids and repair relations with her family – but she writes that every day, every mistake she makes, reminds her of what a failure she is. Because she didn’t live up to her full potential.
This year, in the Beijing Olympics, the Chinese team includes He Kexin (pictured in all 3 photos). World renowned for her unparalleled skill on the uneven bars, she is a controversial figure. Olympic rules state a competitor must be at least 16 years old. But in gymnastics, the younger girls are more flexible, more fearless, more agile and, of course, smaller. He Kexin is 16 according to her Chinese-issued passport. She is 14 according to her actual birth certificate.
Yet no one will file a complaint for fear of retribution from the Chinese judges. And I fear that even if someone were to intervene on behalf of the tiny girl, she wouldn’t take it. Because she has to live up to her potential.
I think launching kids into such a merciless competitive arena at that age is irresponsible.
This post made me wonder: if one day my own kids want to take up a competetive sport similar in its exacting high standards to gymanastics, how would I feel about it? Knowing that my own perfectionist streak would undoubtedly have passed on to them in some way? Could I forbid it, would I want to? How would you feel about it, Charlotte, given your own experiences?
It’s an interesting contrast of the high standards we aspire to ourselves, and what we would want for those we love.
Personally, I was speccy and geeky enough to avoid all competitive sports (phe-ew) which is just as well as I could only just about handle the academic pressure I put on myself at school…
TA x
Would anyone be surprised if the Chinese were cheating by putting in under age kids?
did you see 60 minutes this past weekend?
I never watch it but happened to—all about the older american gymnasts and how they are coming out against the way the usa runs their elite program (shocking. NOT.).
people often approach me about gymnastics and my TODDLER (mainly because she’s fearless)…and try to appeal to MY narcissism I think about how she could ‘go really far’ etc.
they are surprised EVERY TIME I SAY NO WAY.
she can have any hobby she chooses but she cant be a little girl in a pretty box—–Ill take the risk she resents me some day for saying no.
I'm with MiZFit. My biggest fear is my daughter ending up with distorted eating & body issues like I did.
Wow–I definitely had an uneasy feeling about the demands of girl’s gymnastics, but I had no idea it was that bad.
Fortunately for me, I was never good enough at anything as a kid to feel motivated to push too hard. Hooray for mediocrity!
I have my own little experience in that arena being that I did ballet for years and went to a conservatory for a few of them. Lots of sacrifices…
Well, I still remember a day when our rehearsals took us to a big sports center (long story), where the French national team of gymnasts was training. I remember watching them from afar, quite impressed, but I was just shocked when the girls came to our level. They were MINUSCULE!! And this was coming from a ballet dancer… HELLO!!!
If I did have a daughter, I am afraid I would draw the line right there. No, you can’t be a gymnast, and as Mizfit, I would deal with whatever rancor would come later.
As for China, is anyone surprised?
I realized at about age 10, when I was already taller than the competitive high school gymnasts, that this wasn’t the sport for me. But oh, how I loved flying off the high bar into the foam pit! And the spring floor!
I played basketball for 12 years. I loved it. I quit after my junior year of high school, although I likely could have walked on to a team at a D2 or D3 scollege. The previous 6 years of my parents pushing and pushing me to work harder just wore me down. Add to that the politics of high school sports (rich kids and school board members’ kids get to play, even if they’re not as good) and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I had to get out. And it took me several years before I could even enjoy watching a basketball game again.
I swore then and there that I would never push my children into anything. If they want to go to basketball camp, I’ll send them. But I’ll never demand that they attend 3 camps a summer and play in 4 leagues through the school year. Apparently, I’m still a little resentful about all that.
It must be something in the water, because I’ve been talking to friends recently about very similar issues of not living up to our potentials growing up! I was always pushed to achieve, and constantly told that I was not doing good enough! From my perspective, I was trying very hard, and couldn’t understand why I was “failing.” In retrospect, I think I was still immature both mentally and physically as I had been skipped ahead in school. Somehow, I managed to keep on keeping on and, eventually started kicking some serious butt academical and athletically. I finally learned that being who I was, was really the easiest person to be, and that my true battle was with myself, not anyone else. And, as the Eagle’s said, “Who is gonna make it, we’ll find out in the long run!” And we did!
Thank you for a wonderful post, Charlotte!
Wow. Great post, as always. This brought up a memory I have of watching the Summer Olympics when I was really young…7-8 years old or so…it was the balance beam competition and one announcer was critiquing some poor little thing’s routine. He mentioned “how much bigger” she was now and how her weight gain would prove to a detriment. Sure enoguh, she didn’t medal. I recall sitting there, thinking how bad this girl would feel if she could hear this guy…and then wondering if *I* was “too big” — whatever that meant. I hadn’t thought of this in ages.
It is so touching and heartbreaking to hear this Charlotte – and you too Dr. J! I was always pushed to do my best, but also encouraged to participate in whatever my heart desired. In true ADHD form I played the piano, trumpet, flute, guitar and bells, took dancing lessons for years, was part of the book clubs at our library, and participated in many sports. Not to mention trying out for the cheerleading team and being rejected (sob!) because I was “too tall.” I think they were just trying to be nice, I am no cheerleader. But my parents always encouraged us to try anything we were interested in. I think no one is a harder critic than yourself, but honestly I didn’t try to start being perfect until I was put on ADHD meds. I think all that hyper-focus is wasted time and energy, unless it’s something you love to do. Now I just try to thrive on doing my best and following my heart. Which is way easier said than done (especially at work!), but I’m so sorry you had to go through that Charlotte. I hope in retrospect you can learn to cut yourself some slack and just be happy being the fabulous person we know that you are!
Ex-gymnast here, and I was probably just like you in the sense that I wasn’t a natural (I was one of the tallest at 5’3″, heaviest at 115-120, and curviest at a B cup) but I loved it because there is no thrill like it in the world. I was training level 9 and decided I wanted a life instead of training 20-30 hours per week and left. I had the evil coach that probably could have induced an eating disorder, but that just never clicked for me. I just like food too much, always have, always will.
For all of it’s downfalls I don’t regret it. Any time I’m in a scary situation, I think, “Hey, this is nothing like doing flip flop layouts on high beam for the first time, just go for it.” It definitely encouraged a determination and resolve in my character I might not have elsewhere. But then again, I did it because I loved it (my parents were thrilled when I quit), and I just tuned out everything I didn’t like about it. I think I probably had it better than most gymnasts because of that.
So if I ever had kids that wanted to do gymnastics, I’d let them. Just watch them like a hawk to make sure everything’s kosher.
It bothers me quite a bit to see sports at the Olympic level dominated by children. Since we hit our physical peak some time in our early to mid 20’s, one would think the strongest competitors should be around 24. When you have sports where hardly a single serious contender is over the age of 20 (or even 18) you have to ask yourself if these are children’s sports rather than adult sports. Disturbingly this phenomenon seems to be more prevalent among “women’s” sports than men’s. If you’ve got a sport which girls are intrinsically better at than women, you’ve got to wonder if it should even be included in the games. I know that’s a little bit of an extreme position but the idea of not reaching your potential becomes more pernicious if that potential must be achieved by age 16 or 17 rather than as an adult.
I did gymnastics for a little while when I was younger, but I never really got into it. I wasn’t fearless, so I never felt comfortable trying flips, even on the vault. I did like the uneven bars, even when I fell off onto my head once. But I kept getting bursitis, and my parents were quite happy when I decided I didn’t want to continue with it (I think they say some of this culture).
I think it’s hard enough already to be a young girl in our culture, what with body issues and everything, that this added pressure is just not right.
I thoroughly enjoyed the post. I worry about my 14 year old daughter everyday!
What Marc said!
It does seem problematic that this is a “children’s” sport. I was actually feeling bad about the fact that we don’t own a TV or cable because I want to watch the Olympics. (I never miss our TV, except during big things – the Oscars, elections, natural disasters.) But gymnastics are one of the big sports I wanted to watch. I was going to see what I could watch online. Now I’m questioning that.
I wonder how bad it is in men’s (boys?) gymnastics. My 4 yo is a little monkey, standing on his head, doing crazy stuff, and I’ve thought of putting him in a gymnastics class. I know nothing about it though – is the size factor as big an issue? Because he’s gonna be big I think. But I think it might be fun for him to learn anyway.
My cousin did National Team level Figure Skating all through her childhood and youth and has testified to similar experiences. It was heart-wrenching for our parents to watch and as a teenager I always envied the support she got for “training and being thin”. I know better now.
Re: The Chinese Gymnast. I could see why no one would want to sacrifice their points to complain, but at the same time they are letter in another competitor that is obviously of notice.
I’m with Tokaiangel, I feel sorry for all the kids who were pushed into competitive sports by their parents at an early age. I think it can really mess with you.
I only did gymnastics for one year but I loved it with all my heart. I was the oldest in my class and possibly the least graceful of the bunch. But that feeling of failure and not living up to your full potential might just be one of the worst feelings in the world…
I took gymnastics as a kid, and enjoyed it. But I’ve come to despise elite gymnastics, at least for women. If you compare the ages of female and male gymnasts, the men are mostly 18- 24. And the competition is different: men have the rings, the horse, all this stuff that requires strength and bulk. Not that the women (girls, really) don’t need to be strong, it’s just, I don’t know, different. (Similar to ballet; guys need to lift women, women need to weigh about 90 pounds. Ergh.) And whenever I see a female gymnast, I’m always surprised to learn she is 16 or 17, not 11 or 12.
And, Charlotte, I totally understand! When you start getting those messages early, they’re hard to ignore. They’re ingrained. (I started acting as a kid ’cause I love it. Now? I haven’t even gone to see a movie in 2 years, or a play in 1 1/2. And I only saw that one ’cause my husband was involved.)
I wish you could see yourself as we see you : AMAZING!!!!!
wow, good job writing about my exact childhood.
competitive gymnats- good enough to impress the kids at school, not good enough to make putting my parents in debt worth it.
my favorite gymnastics/eatingdisorder/abusive coach and parents book is Little Girls in Pretty Boxes.
http://www.everygymsnightmare.com
Great post. “potential” is such a damning word – I did elite sport (crew) for a while and was constantly told I wasn’t good enough. I look back now and see that I was actually pretty awesome – top 12 nationally and Olympic crew contender. Got out of the sport when a borderline ED (trying to get to 126lbs, I am 6ft tall) and overtraining lead to an injury. Glad I had the chance to push myself at an elite level but think it could have been handled much better. After I injured myself my coach never spoke to me again – I was of no use to him anymore.
This is really sad, I'm a gymnast too from Sweden. Actually don't know how I found your blog but this actually touch me cause I have very big problems with injuries and there's always a new one around the corner if some of them gets better. I can't stop training couse.. well the one who trains the most and hardest will be the best and you can't learn new skills when you don't train, it really sucks.. And in sweden we don't have cortisone shots and stuff like that available, good or bad well that depends on how you look at it.
Hope you understood at least some of my sentences, not the best at english 🙂
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