How to get rid of a label

“The athlete” — one of the hardest labels to get rid of. I trained athletics (track and field) for seven years. The first time I set foot on a stadium was the summer before second grade. You can imagine that from that point on everyone associated my name with at least one thing- “trains athletics”.

I was good. I was talented. Still am. Talent doesn’t just disappear. But I thought that if I were to stop training athletics, if I were to go down a different path, the label people had for me would simply go away. Oh, how wrong I was.

I haven’t been an athlete for two years, going on three. I still get asked questions like:

“So do you still train?”

“How’s the training going?”

Of course those are usually asked by people in the wider circles such as: my father’s friends, people that know one of my parents, friends of friend’s, ex- friends, people I forgot I knew, etc etc. What’s more annoying is when they didn’t even bother to remember which sport it was that I trained.

“You played some sport, didn’t you?”

Those seemingly innocent questions are the reason I hate small talk. I am probably the only person who asks: “How are you?” and actually means it. The reason I am overreacting a bit is because I have finally reached the point where it gets annoying. Quitting a sport you gave seven years of your life to is like coming out. You have to first approach your parents. You do so cautiously, because you don’t know how they will react. Will they be disappointed? Will they try to make me continue? Will they disown me? Ok, maybe the last one was a bit over the top. But you get the idea. There is a lot of pressure involved with quitting something, especially if you are good at it.

“Why did you quit?”

Now that is the worst question of all. Are you really asking me, or are you just trying to keep up the conversation. Because it’s always complicated. Do you really want me to tell you about all the sh*t I have gone through. All of the struggles. All of the pain. My brilliantly f***ed up body. Do you really want to know? Or are you just asking to “ask”?

And finally. The worst question of all:

“Do you miss it?”

I gave seven years of my life for this. I struggled year after year. I won and I lost. I felt like the best, and I felt like a looser. I cried bitter tears, because I couldn’t show what I was capable of. I was beaten down time and time again, but I got up every single time. I have wanted to throw my running shoes and leave countless of times. But I stayed. I trained. I fought. And I miss it. I miss it so f***ing much. I miss the thrill I got at every race. I miss the envious looks, the fake hugs and handshakes. I miss knowing that I was going to win, because I was the best. Most of all I miss not being THAT person until the end. I didn’t quit, because I lost my talent. I didn’t quit, because of some stupid heart condition. I didn’t quit because of some random problems, which look more like excuses. I quit because I was not the same person I was when I first started. I used to go out on the stadium with my head high. I heard “We are the champions” (Queen) play and I said: “They are going to play this for me today” (Yes, it actually happened. And yes, they played it — three times). I let myself down by doubt and fear. I had too much weight on my shoulders. People expected too much. No, they expected me. But I felt pressured to be perfect and to be the best. I feel like I stopped believing. And that is the true reason why I quit athletics. I quit because I lost myself. Now I have found so many different aspects of me that I never would have if I had continued training. Do I miss it? — Yes. Do I regret quiting? — No.

The label “athlete” still comes up from time to time. How did I get rid of it. Well, I just came out as an ex-athlete to everyone that asked me the dumb questions from above. I think, I might be quite close to just being me. But, who knows. Maybe tomorrow I’ll meet an old relative that knows nothing about me, or someone else from the wider circle. How do you truly get rid of a label? — you accept it and you stop caring. At the end of the day it doesn’t matter what label other people put on you. All that matters is how you see you.