Injuries - Bowling - Life 🖤

Hey baddies,

I wanted to jump on here and talk about something really important — being injured, knowing when to step back, and choosing to do what’s best for you.

I’ve briefly talked about my college injury before, but I want to open up more about it. Even though it’s “healed,” it still flares up when I bowl a lot without stretching or giving myself proper rest. I’ve learned the hard way that ignoring it doesn’t help.

When I got to college, it was my dream — but it was also wild, new, and I was completely alone. Unless you’ve lived through it, it’s hard to fully understand what it feels like to have your whole family was asleep while being awake. When I woke up, they were going to bed, and they didn’t wake up until late in the afternoon. There were so many moments I wanted to talk to my mum during the day, but I couldn’t — calling or texting would wake her up, and I felt guilty for disturbing her sleep.

Of course, sometimes I couldn’t help myself. I’d reach out and she’d wake up instantly. I’d feel selfish. And by the time it was evening and she was finally free to talk, I was drained — my brain wasn’t in the same space anymore. I didn’t want to talk then. It didn’t feel the same.

Yes, I had teammates, friends, professors, and my coach — but the person who had always helped me make big life decisions wasn’t there anymore. I felt like she couldn’t help me the same way from across the world.

So when I got injured, I bowled through it. And honestly? That season went great. I bowled well, did great academically, and mentally I felt in control.

Until I didn’t.
The pain became unbearable. But I kept pushing, because in my mind, bowling was more important than my physical health. And maybe the real issue was that I never told anyone. I was scared that if I did, I wouldn’t be allowed to bowl. I’d already lost one year on the sidelines — I wasn’t about to lose another.

After that season, I didn’t bowl for five months. I forced myself to rest. I barely practiced or worked out. It was hard, but it helped. The pain wasn’t completely gone, but it wasn’t nearly as bad.

But the following season ended up being my worst. I had a lot going on, and looking back now — I wasn’t okay. I wasn’t taking care of myself mentally. Getting over that injury was harder than I ever let myself admit. I wasn’t performing the way I wanted to, and it crushed me.

Because the truth is — bowling is my whole life.
What would I even be without it? How do people live without something that gives them such strong purpose?

Even now, in league, I get so mad if I don’t perform. I never understood why people thought I was too emotional about my sport.

But it finally clicked for me — bowling is my whole life.

Now, though, I’m learning how to manage those emotions. And I want to pass that wisdom on:

Someone once told me, “You’re only as good as your last tournament.”
It shook me.
That mindset is so damaging. From now on, I’m not tying my self-worth to my performance.

I’m learning to be present. To be grateful that my body still works and I can bowl. It’s not that serious all the time. Let the moment happen. Let the game unfold.

Do your sport because you love it — not because you can’t live without it.
Bowling is a part of you, but it’s not all of you.

Trust yourself.
Listen to your body.
Believe your instincts when they tell you to rest.
Don’t force it.

And here’s the wildest part — when you stop letting performance define your worth, your performance actually gets better. There’s less pressure. You reconnect with the love for the game. You stop obsessing over the end goal and start enjoying the journey.

I don’t regret seeing bowling as my whole life — it gave me direction, purpose, passion. But now that I recognize that mindset, I’m ready to grow from it. I’m ready to evolve. And maybe, just maybe, sharing this can help someone else feel seen and supported, too.

Love you baddies — take care of yourselves. 💖