The other day I took my friends daughter to her gymnastics lesson, when all of a sudden, a wave of unexpected emotions washed over me. Seeing her run into the gym with a smile, and hardly a care in the world, I felt a pang of jealousy and an unsettling sense of loss. The memories of my own gymnastics’ days, a time I used to love, clashed with the reality of anxiety that stole the carefree joy I once had.
Zoe Watson at a gymnastics competition. Age: 11
I used to love gymnastics and it was pretty easy to tell. You would hardly see me right-side up and I was constantly scaring my parents with the crazy flips I would do. I can remember begging my parents to let me start gymnastics classes, just desperate to jump around on the cool equipment. When they finally gave in, relieved I would be at least now doing these tricks in a safe space, I was overjoyed. But when the time came around for the first class, my joy was snatched. The very activity that once brought me exhilaration was now a source of overwhelming anxiety. I watched the other girls in my class walk onto the mat and start the class, whilst I sat crying, hidden in my mum’s lap. Nothing anyone did could convince me to enter that gym. Anxiety for me, is a thief of both happiness and confidence, it always has been. I remember the intense jealousy and frustration when I would watch the other kids do the tricks I wanted to do and have the fun I wanted to have. I couldn’t understand why something I loved so much, would end up being the cause of so many meltdowns. The disparity between my desire to train and the crippling fear of failure completely paralysed me. Over the years, anxiety expanded its territory, creeping into other aspects of my life. It has robbed me of friendships, parties, sports, jobs, and countless other things. It was a slow, stealthy encroachment, stealing experiences from my grasp.
My anxiety had a way of distorting my perception of myself and the world around me, replacing the joy and confidence I once had with doubt and fear. And it would happen at almost the flick of a switch. In this case, the lead up to a gymnastics class would be full of excitement but as I walked through that gymnasium door, I would wish to be anywhere else but there. Anxiety was a master illusionist, seamlessly replacing my excitement with dread.
The loss anxiety inflicts isn’t always obvious to the eye. It’s not just about missing out on events or experiences. It’s about the loss of the carefree spirit, the spontaneity, and the joy of being in the moment. It’s about losing hobbies, passions, and dreams to the clutches of fear and worry.
Seeing the young gymnasts at the gym now, so full of enthusiasm and free of apprehension, stirs a mixture of emotions within me. It brings back the memories of what could have been and what was taken away. But it also serves as a reminder to keep working hard so that I can continue to create moments of joy in life, so strong that anxiety will keep away. I think I still am grieving the loss of the thing’s anxiety took from me, but I am trying to ensure that it takes nothing more. As for now, the joy on that little girls face when she runs back to me at the end of her class makes the tricky emotions all worth the while.