03/25/2026
If I could restart my fitness journey at 18, I wouldn’t try to outrun grief.
A few months before my injury, my dad passed away.
He was my best friend. My biggest cheerleader. The one who believed in me more than anyone.
Losing him was my biggest nightmare.
And I didn’t know how to sit with that kind of pain.
So I trained harder.
I was dancing 6–8 hours a day and running miles at night while barely fueling myself. I told myself it was dedication.
But it wasn’t discipline.
It was grief.
I thought if I stayed focused enough, busy enough, I wouldn’t have to feel it.
Eventually, my body shut me down.
I got injured for the second time and missed finals at Youth America Grand Prix after placing first at regionals. I also lost a potential contract.
Everything felt like it was collapsing.
After that, while I was injured, I tried to regain control through food - since I couldn’t preoccupy myself with dancing and running. I went vegan immediately - not from knowledge, but from desperation. I thought any control would make me feel powerful again.
Instead, I was under-nourished, stressed, inflamed, and disconnected from myself.
I wish I could tell her:
You don’t have to earn strength through suffering.
You don’t have to break yourself to survive grief.
Your dad would want you strong.
Now I coach women differently.
We build strength without self-destruction.
We fuel.
We recover.
We stop confusing exhaustion with worth.
That 18-year-old girl was broken.
But she survived.
And she built me.
🤍
