From the Beach to the Boardroom: Lesson #1 from Sport

Transitioning Out of Sport Takes Time

“Have you no direction in life?”

Those words hit me like a ton of bricks.

For some reason unknown to me, a referee thought that was an appropriate statement to make to me before playing in a match a couple of months ago.

To say that statement struck a nerve deep within me would be an understatement.

I felt exposed.

I felt ashamed.?

Let's rewind a little bit. I think it's important for you to have some context into my life in case you're reading this and we've never had the privilege of crossing paths.

The short version of my story is that I played professional beach volleyball for Team Canada for 8 years. I travelled the globe competing against the best athletes in the world and I'm proud to say my former teammate and I battled our way to a #18 ranking in the world. I retired from the National Team at the end of the 2021 season knowing it was time to walk away while also being terrified of what would come next.?

In January of 2024 I made the decision to join the Toronto Metropolitan University’s (TMU) women's volleyball team at 32 years old.? I hadn't played competitive indoor volleyball since I graduated from my undergrad in 2013. It was a decision that surprised a lot of people (including myself), but it's a decision I have tremendous pride in.?

Now that you've gotten the Coles Notes of my story, let's get back to me being completely blindsided by this ref’s comment.

I'm a 32 year old woman with so much pride in my decision to push boundaries and compete with athletes much younger than me. I'm walking into a gym to play against a team that I formerly played on 11 years earlier.?

“Have you no direction in life?”...

This man happened to be a ref back when I played in university (the first time) over a decade ago. When he saw me, he first greeted me by name saying how it's been a while and that it's great to see me. I've been involved in coaching for many years now so his first assumption was that I was coaching for TMU.

It was when he saw me wearing knee pads and then said, “Wait you're playing?...”

“Yep, I'm playing! So fun.” I said with a big smile.

His response: “Have you no direction in life?”

At first, I must have looked stunned. I then felt the emotions starting to come up. My heart rate increased. My breathing shallowed.?

Cue the defensiveness.

“Ummm…I'm actually working full time, own a home, in a happy relation-”

I cut myself off. I realized I was trying to justify my life decisions to someone who clearly wasn't my kind of people and I simply stopped speaking and said, “yeah I'm good.”, and kept walking to our bench.

I didn't owe him an explanation. I knew why I was there. I knew returning to the sport I love so much was a beautiful decision for me.

After doing some soul searching the next day as to why that comment stung so bad, I came to realize that it's because there was some truth to his statement that caused an alarm to go off inside of me.

My whole professional athlete career I was always so scared about what was next for me in life. The thoughts were so loud. At times they were paralyzing.?

“Will anyone ever hire me?”

“How will I get a job?”

“Why am I still playing?”

“Should I retire now and start a real job before it's too late?”

At times, those thoughts were overwhelming. Some days the voice in my head was louder than other days.?

I can confidently say that all high performance athletes experience this. Every single one of us. Although the specific thoughts may be a little different, the theme is always the same.

“What am I going to do next? Am I going to be okay?”

It's a narrative that we all share together but don't know how to navigate. We suffer silently and don't talk too in depth about the fear we have. It's lonely. Sometimes it might come up and we laugh it off. The laughter connects us - deep down we all know the heaviness to it, but we don't know what else to do.?

Winning also helps. When you're performing well, the fear of the future and the voice in your head doesn't seem to be so loud. We all know that playing at the highest level in the world means that sustaining winning for a long period of time is a tough thing to do.

String a few bad performances together or a season where you may not have met your goals and that voice in your head tends to get a little louder.

“What am I going to do next? Am I going to be okay?”

When that referee felt the need to ask me, “Have you no direction in life?”, I had to get curious with myself.

The truth is that question triggered a part of me that’s not fully healed yet. That part of me that does still wonder, “What's next?” and “Will I be okay?”.

Whether you come from a high performance sport background or not, we all don't know what tomorrow will bring us or how we'll manage to get through it. We just want to know we will be okay.?

I believe that the transition out of high performance sport is one of the toughest things to do. Way tougher than any conditioning workout you could do. I'm still navigating the transition two years after retiring from professional sport.?

I'm writing this to let any current or former high performance athlete know that you are absolutely not alone in your feelings.

There's a community who made the transition out of sport. We are now your teammates. Our journey through sport connects each of us.?

The beautiful thing about us athletes is that we know how to lean on our teammates. You now have a whole new team of people that would be happy to help and support you. Lean on them. Reach out to them. Trust me, we want to help you because we know that same struggle.

Come from curiosity and see what you can discover about yourself within the messiness of the transition.

I'm willing to be your teammate if you're willing to be mine.?

Yes, you can do it. Yes, you are worthy. Yes, it will be okay.?

Lastly, if you are that ref who made that comment to me and somehow ends up reading this - thank you for showing me this unhealed side of me.?

Also…be better.?

There is no place for people like you saying thoughtless comments to people that you know nothing about. Check yourself and realize that once you say something to someone, they can't ever unhear it.?

Words are powerful.