When I grew up, I remember were the most popular high school sports for girls athletics, volleyball, basketball, football, softball, cheerleading and cross-country. But rugby? It was never part of the conversation.
When I was asked by Quest Nutrition to take part in an Olympic training experience with the National Rugby Sevens team of the US women, I did not hesitate. I was all in.
Admittedly, I was nervous. However, this changed the moment I received the squad and not recognized one but two women who looked like I looked. Two black women who smile from ear to ears stand up as part of an Olympic history team. My fear gave curiosity and pride.
Rugby has long been perceived as a predominantly white sport. In a report by The Guardian 2020 it was found that less than 8% of the players were identified as black, Asian or from another ethnic minority. What if you areolating this figure only black athletes? The percentage drops even lower.
With such a limited representation, the challenge is not only physical – it is mental. It is known that you are one of the few. It pushes your body to its limits and at the same time carries the invisible weight of visibility. But it is also a gift to compete, create space and to redesign the narrative in real time.
When the two -time Olympic and bronze medalist Ariana Ramsey reminded me after the training: “Great and hard work shapes the athlete that they should be. Her willingness to go to practice every day is a competence that you always need and use.”
These words stayed with me because a journalist is only half of the battle as a black mason athlete or in my case. It’s never just about play or work. It is about writing what is possible, even if the narrative has never been written with us – black women and many others from historically marginalized background. Is it about being seen? Yes, absolutely, but it is more than that; The older I get, the more I notice that the next little brown girl also sees herself.
The game itself in the center of the Chula Vista Elite Training Center, one of the best Olympic training campus in the country, questioned the game itself any physical border that I knew.
It was exciting, yes, but it also triggered something deeper. It created an internal shift from the imposter syndrome to be embodied. I started to understand that in all forms the real strength is not just about physical skills. I missed a few kicks. My athletics definitely didn’t beat as I had hoped for. And when it was time to run, did I come first? Absolutely not. (laughs)
But the real victory had nothing to do with numbers. It was in the looseness of the mental chains, to silence the inner critic and to calm the outer noise, which sometimes (and sometimes continued) in my everyday life. The silent whispering of discouragement, defeat or doubt. The persistent question of “What if I’m not enough?” What if things don’t go as I planned? “What if I am not ready or should meet the expectation?”
That day I didn’t just appear in the field. I pushed the noise through. And I not only appeared in her entire whole for Dontaira K. Terrell – I have proven something for myself and nobody. Even if I didn’t achieve the Field goal, I landed the tackle or lead my fastest race – I laughed everything. No pressure. I was present. I enjoyed the moment. I took what I couldn’t and turned it into a lesson, not into a curve ball.
If everyone else has gained dynamics, collect victories or live their so -called best life, they can make them switch off and ask themselves: “What about me?”
It took time to come here. So long I wore the weight of the experiment to be perfect. Be a winner. Monitoring, regardless of the costs. This pressure was more harmful to me than benefits. But let go of these restrictive beliefs? That was freedom. Who took care that I didn’t violate as quickly as the person next to me? That was the pressure I didn’t know that I needed it.
If I’m honest, I grew up in an excellence budget. Parents from the university trained. High performance siblings. World travelers. Trophy winner. My older sisters are not only entrepreneurs and business women – two are lawyers, and one is an audiologist (actually the first black woman who receives a doctor of audiology (Au.d.) in the middle west). As you can imagine, it felt anything but my best like an option.
“When I grew up, I worked very hard, but not immediately saw the payment, so I felt that what I did was not worth,” said Nia Toliver, American Rugby Union player, and thought about the advice that she would give her younger herself. “But if I think about where I am now, it is because of the work I have invested. It was a long-term profit-not immediate success.”
Talk about words that have resonance.
In today’s society – from television via Tikk, Instagram and everything in between, it is easy to feel that they fall back. If everyone else has gained dynamics, collect victories or live their so -called best life, they can make them switch off and ask themselves: “What about me?”
We are culture in a microwave contracts. Everything looks immediately. But real success? Real orientation? It takes time. And that’s why I had to learn to separate the two to put things in the right light. Just as Maya Angelou reminded us: “All great successes require time.”
That is also the reason why I celebrated the little victories. They are the proof of grit, grinding and endurance behind closed doors. The effort you do when nobody watches. When the applause is calm. If the likes on the gram are only a few. I know first -hand that these moments are the most difficult.
It is about fulfilling the narrative: you don’t have to be perfect, but you have to continue and continue to appear. After I had spent the day with the team, I had another realization when it was time to leave the US Olympic and Paralympic training. The roles of trainers, sports psychologists, team nutritionists, personal trainers and the list in rugby reflected something that I understand in my own life: Your support system is as important as your skills.
If you want to win something in the field or in real life, let me tell you that this foundation must be solid. This encouragement, this accountability, this belief in you if you doubt yourself? This type of support is first class, because no matter how talented you are, you can’t do it alone. In order to gain life in this thing, both on and outside the field, you need people who help you stay in the game, even if life does the most.
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