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How I Made the Olympic Games at 18.

By Elizabeth Cui

By Elizabeth CuiPublished 3 years ago 13 min read
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Rio2016 Olympic Village

Today is July 31st, 2020. I am currently in Louisiana, U.S.A, and we are in the middle of a pandemic. What better time than now to reflect. Here is my first written account of my journey to the Olympic Games.

Growing up I was always told by my parents to persevere and achieve, whether that be in academics or sport. I clung to that piece of advice like a baby grips their mother's finger. When I was younger my mother taught me to swim and I immediately loved the water. I loved how it made me feel light. When I would go under the water with my goggles on, I would feel like I was in an alternate world, like no one could see me. I would do as many flips as I could and feel invincible. As I got older, I would chase that feeling in everything that I did. When I started gymnastics at the age of 8, I found that feeling of invincibility in adrenaline. Every flip or move that I learned made me feel stronger. When I was challenged with a new skill, I was initially filled with fear and doubt. However, there was always a little voice in my head that reminded me of how I would feel after I completed it, and that the feeling of conquering the new skill was worth the pain of getting over that fear. I trained 20 hours a week in swimming and gymnastics and from my memory, I rarely complained. Nevertheless, one day when I was playing around on the balance beam, I fell and broke my elbow. Recovery time was extensive and left me out of the pool and limited in the gym. Ultimately I ended up leaving gymnastics.

I felt like I was missing something without gymnastics. I was missing that adrenaline rush that I had grown to love. Any opportunity to flip, I would. I would do cartwheels, handstands, and walkovers at any chance. I just loved being upside down. One day after swim practice, the diving boards were open to the public so my fearless self, thought how different could diving be to gymnastics, so, I decided to flip of the one-meter springboard. It was simple, it was ugly, but it was still a flip. One of the diving coaches, saw me and went up to my mum and told her to bring me to diving practice, so she did.

Diving was scary and it hurt when you landed wrong. It didn’t take me long to realize that water isn’t soft when you quickly come at it with force. I loved it though. I loved it for the friends I made and the feeling of accomplishment every time I learned a new dive. Diving practice quickly became my happy place.

Things weren’t always good at home. My parents loved my brother and me but almost every night of the week there an argument and sometimes it escalated very quickly to more than an argument. At the time, the arguments were over things that little kids couldn’t understand so my brother and I would hide under the covers and try to distract ourselves until it stopped. When I would go to diving practice the next day however, I simply forgot about everything that would happen the night before and I would be so happy to do what I loved again. Everyone at training was encouraging and I was always surrounded by laughter. My mum was so dedicated to seeing me succeed and would wake up early to take me to practice and would always have food ready for me after practice. My dad was so uplifting and would always tell me that I was going to make the Olympics, even if I didn’t believe him.

As time went on, diving remained a constant in my life. It was a place of constant growth and achievement. It wasn’t until 2011 when I took a trip to Montréal, Canada for a diving competition that I began to think about the Olympic Games. My coach, my teammate, and I went to dinner at one of the diver’s houses one night and naturally, the topic of diving came up. The mother of the Canadian diver asked my teammate and me what our goals were in the sport. My teammate answered almost immediately, “I want to go to the Olympics,” with profound assurance. I however drew a blank and softly said, “I don’t know, I just like it,”. For days and weeks after we returned home to New Zealand, I pondered on the thought of the Olympics, what it was, and whether or not it’s something I wanted to be a part of. My 14-year-old self wasn’t sure.

Fast-forward three years to 17-years-old. I was driving in the car one day and my mum said, “I don’t think we can afford your diving anymore, it’s just too expensive.” My heart dropped immediately but a part of me saw it coming. I replied, “ok.” Now, something you have to understand is that sport in New Zealand is very rarely financially supported by the government unless you play rugby, golf, or tennis. That means that everything from training fees, swimsuits, overseas travel, accommodation, and other costs were all covered by my parents and on rare occasions by the diving club or one-time donations. My parents did the best they could to support my dreams. I remember my dad standing outside of the local supermarket on Sunday’s with a barbecue, selling sausages, even though he was a vegetarian, and a sign with my face on it and lettering with something along the lines of “help get my daughter to the Junior World Championships”. I remember my mum asking family members to help support travel costs and working long hours to support me. I wore the same tracksuit from 2008 to 2015 to save money, so, when my mum said she couldn’t afford it anymore, there was only one thing I could do; accept it.

It didn’t take long for me to realize I wasn’t okay with quitting diving so I told my parents that I would not be stopping and said that I would get the money somehow. At the time, I had no idea how I was going to raise that money, all I knew was that I would make it happen. I began by google searching for sponsorship opportunities in New Zealand and applying for them. After that, I started reaching out to companies individually and asking them for support. I got some responses but not many were able to support me and just wished me the best of luck. One day I received an email from a company called AMP saying that I had been selected to come into the AMP office and tell a panel of judges why I should receive the AMP scholarship. I had no recollection of applying for this scholarship because I had contacted so many different companies, but I knew this was good news. I don’t remember exactly what I said to the judges but I do remember being very nervous. The office was at the top of a very tall building and there were cameras on me as soon as I arrived. All I remember was that I talked about my passion for the sport and my dreams to make the 2016 Olympic Games. A few weeks later I received another email stating that I was a finalist for the award and an invitation to the banquet held at Auckland Museum. I received a 10,000-dollar-scholarship that night but more importantly, I came to a very clear realization that I was going to do everything it took to make the Olympic team, not just for myself but for all those who had supported me and looked up to me.

Within the next year, my life was about to change. I received multiple offers for full-scholarships to American universities to dive on their team and attend their university. I ended up narrowing it down to Louisiana State University (LSU) and the University of Tennessee (UT). I took trips to both and by a very narrow margin, LSU stole my heart. In January 2016 I packed my bags and left for Louisiana. I lived with two volleyball players that semester, both over 6-feet tall. Everything was different, from the accents to the climate, I felt like I was in a different world. Starting in the middle of a school year had its challenges, particularly because all the freshmen on the team already had a semester under their belt, so I had to navigate around school mostly on my own. I jumped into competing almost immediately after discussing with my new coach that it would be best to have some competition experience before competing at the World Cup competition in February where I hoped to qualify for the 2016 Olympic Games.

World Cup was the last chance for countries to qualify their spots for the Games so it was a high-pressure event. This was a competition where you see some of the best athletes in the world failing dives because of the pressure to perform. For me, however, I didn’t feel any pressure. This was the biggest event I had been to up until that point so my number one goal was to have fun. I remember being in awe of the amazing athletes around me and feeling so privileged to be able to dive alongside them. Competing was fun and I was happy with how I competed. I didn’t make the top 18, automatic Olympic cut but I knew that there was a chance that I could still be chosen.

When I returned to University I had to quickly brush up on my time-management skills as the competitive season was well underway and I was missing five weeks of the school year. I remember feeling so stressed and overwhelmed about everything that I didn’t think I was going to make it. Moving across the world and having to take on school, full-time, and being a competitive athlete not only for LSU but also my country, was a lot harder than I had anticipated. On top of that, the classes I was taking my first semester were very difficult.

I had more emotional break downs that semester than I’ve ever had in my life. Bursts of tears and feelings of helplessness were a regular occurrence in my week. The only way I thought to deal with it all was to drink and smoke and party because at least for those moments I forgot how homesick I felt or how much schoolwork I had to do or the pressure to perform in the pool. I remember sneaking out of my apartment regularly to go smoke a cigarette whenever I’d feel overwhelmed. It’s not something I partake in anymore, but in the mind of an 18-year-old who felt all sorts of emotions that I didn’t understand, the head-rush sure did feel good. So, as you can imagine, I was going down a dangerous road. The back half of the semester was where things hit the fan. The buildup of emotions that I never addressed started to take a strong hold of me and although I had very friendly people surrounding me, I didn’t have anyone that I felt understood me or cared about me. So, I continued to smoke and drink all the time and showed up to a lot of training's hungover. It’s not something I’m proud of but I’m here to tell the truth of my story. On this destructive path, let’s just say I found myself in significant trouble (I’m choosing not to disclose the exact information at this time). The whole process is kind of a blur but I remember feeling scared and overwhelmed, and thought I was going to be deported back home. I was called into my coaches’ office and had to meet with the director of LSU athletics. Neither of them yelled at me but both expressed disappointment, and I definitely felt it. I felt like the walls I put up were closing in on me and I couldn’t breathe. My coach decided to give me another chance and so I continued my life as normal and was still trying to get through school without failing.

I did end up getting through school my first semester but I failed my calculus class so I stayed for summer school and retook it. The summer was slow and most students went home for summer. I was still in a destructive cycle of numbing myself through various substances and you’d think that I would have learned my lesson from getting in trouble my first semester, but during the summer, this time with complete awareness, I made the same choice that caused me to get in trouble in the first place. You could only imagine how worthless I felt this time around. I had to go through the same process all over again. To my surprise, my coach gave me a third chance but the director of LSU athletics this time around said, “I don’t think you’re going to last here,” and those words have stuck with me.

The beginning of the summer of 2016 was one of the lowest points of my life. I felt so small. I kept making all the wrong choices and there was no one else to blame except myself. On top of that, the only girls who had been there for me had left LSU so I felt even more alone than I already did.

I remember one day I was watching the Disney movie, Mulan for the first time when I received an unexpected Facebook message. The message read, “You’re going to the Olympics!!!!!,” and all I replied was, “what?”. I was in complete and utter disbelief. I had so many different emotions but it was the most excited I’ve ever been in my life. My dreams were coming true and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I made phone calls to loved ones and ran around my apartment complex to tell as many people as I could. The days that followed were filled with radio interviews and Skype calls. I felt so overwhelmed but I was happy.

At that point in my life, I didn’t feel worthy of such an achievement. The last Olympic diver for New Zealand competed in the 1992 Games, making me the first Olympic diver to compete for New Zealand in 24 years. 'Why me?' I asked myself over again. 'Why am I being granted this enormous achievement? I don't deserve it.' I felt like there were people who deserved it so much more than I did. I didn't realize it at the time, but even though I was on a destructive path, I also had some redeeming qualities. I was manifesting my Olympic reality by training hard everyday and by seeking financial aid by myself to fight for my dreams. I didn't take my Olympic dream for granted, and among my struggles, there was hard-work and determination.

It took me a long time to accept that I deserved that Olympic spot. I felt so unworthy for so long that when something great came along, I didn't know how to accept it. The truth is, I deserved that spot just as much as anyone else. I deserved to achieve my dreams and feel true happiness, I was just standing in my own way.

I can’t put into words how grateful I was for my coach to never give up on me. It was the second and third chances that I felt like didn’t deserve, that allowed me to achieve what I thought was unachievable. It was almost like I had to have a positive instance with the magnitude of qualifying for the Olympic Games to pull me out of the darkness that I had fallen into. Someone up above was looking out for me and if it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t be who I am today.

For anyone going through a hard time right now, remember this: seeds grow in darkness.

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