the moment i realised

Talent and Hard Work Weren’t Enough

When I was younger, I genuinely believed the toughest athletes were the ones who pushed through everything. The ones who trained when they were sore, did every session, never missed a day, and never showed weakness. So that is exactly who I tried to be. I remember the first time my body sent me a clear warning sign. Something did not feel right, but I brushed it off. I trained anyway. I convinced myself that real athletes push on, and I did not want to fall behind. I was not short on talent. I was not short on effort. But I was definitely putting my energy into the wrong areas.

And yes, I was driven. Yes, I loved it. Yes, I gave everything I had. But I did not yet understand how important recovery was. I did not understand how much communication with coaches mattered. And I definitely did not understand that low intensity sessions are not easy days, but essential ones.
My first proper injury did not just stop my season. It stopped me long enough to realise I was not invincible. It forced me to see that pushing through pain is not something to be proud of. Real strength is knowing when to speak up. Real strength is listening to your body. Real strength is training smart, not just training hard.

But the part of my story that matters most is that I never got stuck in disappointment. I did not spiral or stay still. Instead, every time the path I was on closed, I shifted into a new one. When netball was taken away from me, I moved into sports media. When media led me toward boxing, I backed myself and represented NSW before turning pro. When injuries closed that chapter, I pivoted again into athlete mentoring, which is where I can now help young athletes avoid the mistakes I made.
That ability to change lanes became my biggest strength. It kept me moving forward long after the original plan had to change, and it taught me that there is no single right path in sport.
If I could speak to my younger self now, I would tell her to stop glorifying the grind and start respecting the whole picture. I would tell her that recovery matters. That communication matters. That you can be talented and hardworking and still burn yourself out if you ignore the signs. I would tell her that smart training beats stubborn training every single time.
Most of all, I would tell her this. You are not weak for resting. You are not soft for speaking up. Changing lanes does not mean giving up. It means you are strong enough to keep moving forward when life asks you to pivot.
Talent gets you noticed. Hard work gets you better. But smart choices and the ability to adapt are what keep you in the game. I learnt that the long way, so you don’t have to.