Skylar Rose
Photograph provided by Skylar Rose
If you’re reading this, who you are is greater than what you do.
With the recent news of suicide becoming the number two reason of death behind accidents for student-athletes, it seemed as good a time as ever to finally say some things that have weighed heavy on my heart for years. None of what I have to say is easy to write or easy to hear, but I think those types of words hold the most power. I have always prided myself on being an open book because if I could even make one person feel seen, then that is more than I could ever hope. I know younger Skylar craved to hear that she wasn’t alone in the way she was feeling and the way she was feeling was not something to be ashamed of.
The world of college athletics is a small one. One that once you are in, becomes your label. Many may know the name Cailin Bracken, or maybe at least know the article she wrote a few years back “A Letter to College Sports”. The article is very eloquently written and gut-wrenching. Painful to digest because it is all true. I know it is all true because I understood the article on a personal level, as many others did. That’s the thing with writing. We all have a voice but if you can use that voice to touch people, well that’s a superpower now. One of the quotes she pulled went as follows,
“We have to put the person before the student and the athlete, otherwise we are at risk of losing all three.”
This quote comes to life amid a mental health crisis in the world of college athletics. Every single article was pumped out into the news media like it was crafted from a cookie cutter. All talking about what a joy this person was, how they could light up a room, how they had the world in their hands. Every. Single. Article. However when do the “thoughts and prayers” come to an end? When do we do something?
Understanding the mental health crisis doesn’t randomly catch you the day you step foot on your college campus is a place to start. Many college athletes have been playing their respective sport for over a decade. Communities are being built through pee wee football or little league baseball games. Communities prideful and passionate about their lot of growing successful athletes. Identity is being crafted from such young ages. While these are just your everyday pass time, they slowly creep in and take over your entire life. While you may not see it you are forming the brain of an athlete at the most important developmental stages of your upbringing. At 13 years old I was fed this idea of not being good enough, strong enough, skinny enough, smart enough, and so on. Being judged on my ability to perform and performing in a sport where there was no participation award. A young Skylar standing in front of my adult coaches begging to be praised because I needed to be perfect more than I needed to breathe.
I can attest to the fact that this experience crafted the way I would soon develop into an adult college athlete. Here I am a senior still questioning every move I make, and demanding myself to constantly be what people need. Being seen as a leader and never being able to look in the mirror and see what everyone else supposedly did. When I fail to meet those expectations I am transported back to that young girl that simply wanted to be a good gymnast when she grew up. The young girl who begged to be doing anything right because that was all that mattered to me. How was I supposed to know that was not normal, and where was I supposed to make that change?
There have been times when every bone in my body was begging for a chance to just be, to exist without what felt like the weight of the world on my chest. The dread I carried every time the sun rose was exhausting. The anxious stomach, pounding headaches, and sweaty palms are all symptoms I’m all too familiar with, symptoms I hope the person on the other side of this screen has never felt. I wasn’t sleeping correctly, I wasn’t eating correctly and I certainly was not the happy bubbly Skylar you all know very well today. I was ashamed and embarrassed for how I was feeling and kept it as far below the surface as I could. I gaslit myself into thinking it was all completely normal and a simple “part of the process”. I woke up every day, handled 18 credit hours, kept a high GPA, had a four-hour practice block, went to community service, had a social life, and was my team’s captain, and I felt empty when I had just a second alone. I was told that people would dream of being in my position and that I couldn’t take a second for granted. All of these titles and tasks I held that were supposed to leave me fulfilled left me close to running on empty every day. I thought it was brave to keep this all a secret and power through. Thought it was so strong of me to keep quiet and keep moving forward. When in reality it would have been much braver to stop and ask for help, a piece of advice I was able to offer my peers but never offer to myself.
While we have made a giant step forward by having conversations, when can the conversations end and action begin? We can all see the elephant in the room, we have all addressed the elephant in the room, so what happens next? I wish I had an answer to that question but I do not. And while my time as a competitive athlete is coming to an end, the experiences will never leave me. All the good and especially the bad are glued to me like a scar now. A scar that gets cut open and heals time and time again. How can we create a future that is going to walk away with a lot more of the good instead of all of the bad?
A future generation of health and happiness is one I hope to foster. It’s one I hope the NCAA continues to nurture and change. Being an athlete has completely changed my life in more ways than one, it’s a journey I would never give up and certainly never undo. This journey has created a strong independent woman, a woman that I am proud to see in the reflection of my mirror. So let’s continue to uplift the people around us and move in the right direction. While moving on is quickly approaching for me, I hope to be looked at as a strong, compassionate, and kind athlete and not just for records I’ve broken or the countless practices I’ve attended. My 20 years in sports deserve to be seen as more than that. Skylar, as a person, deserves to be seen as more than that. I am not perfect. I never will be nor do I ever want to be. In the past, my imperfections were seen under a microscope and as a failure, they were characteristics used against me. I have learned through my journey that these imperfections are what make me.
And most importantly I have a family and support system that celebrates all I am and all I am becoming. A family and support system that picks me up every time I fall and gives me the courage to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
You are doing your best, whatever your best may look like today. You are allowed to put yourself first and make a decision, whatever it may be you are brave and strong enough to do it. Your dreams are allowed to change if something is no longer serving you and you don’t need to give a reason to anyone to convince them otherwise. You are allowed to choose yourself every day, and choosing to stand by that is courageous.
I love you and I’m glad you exist.
Skylar Rose, Towson University
Towson University Women’s Track & Field
Dear student athletes, you are strong, capable, and resilient. We are here to support you on your journey. From around the country, five student athletes have come together for a letter series to offer their open support by sharing their unique, beautiful, and individual stories. Their mission is to create a safe community for student athletes to be there for one another through all the challenges and glories. Your mental and physical health matter and you are not alone.
Letter series facilitated and edited by Gabrielle Pack & Rachael Holp.
