I took away the thing my daughter loved most on a warm August afternoon.
I’d watched my daughter twist, tumble, and throw herself in the air for 12 years as a competitive gymnast. But now, it was hurting her, and I had to protect her, even from what she loved most.
It all started with a recreational class at the community center when she was 3. Her passion for gymnastics was clear from the first somersault. With each new skill, she fell more in love with the elite sport. Never wanting her to lose that love, we took things slow. I followed her lead, inevitably winding up on a competitive track.
Eventually, the sport took its toll on her body, and I forced her to step away from the sport.
Gymnastics was causing irreversible damage to her body
At first, we chose the less intense track — fewer hours, more balance — so she could still be a kid. But the hours added up. What began as 45 minutes a week grew to nine hours in a specialized gym, plus weekends filled with competitions. She loved every minute.
Each meet brought medals and new skills. She loved the challenge, the friendships, the routines, and even the hard work.
But gymnastics, even done safely, is hard on the body.
My daughter started complaining that her knees hurt in middle school. Complaining was out of character for her, and I took her to the doctor. The verdict was clear: the pounding her joints endured was causing real, irreversible damage. There was nothing to fix — only a recommendation to stop.
Still, she pressed on, using ice packs, stretches, ibuprofen, and a fierce belief that she could manage it. She was young and resilient, and she wasn’t ready to give up the sport she loved.
I let her keep going for a while.
I took her out of the sport
Eventually, I had to see past her passion and look at her future. She couldn’t understand that the damage was building, that it wouldn’t just disappear when she eventually stopped. Even with doctors explaining the risk, she wanted to push through. Her love for gymnastics made it impossible for her to imagine life without it.
That’s where I came in. As her mom, I had to do what she couldn’t.
She didn’t understand that the damage was done and worsening with every flip and landing; it wasn’t something that would go away when she stopped gymnastics. She loved it and was dedicated to the hard work it required. But she couldn’t see beyond her love for the sport.
As a mom, I was in a difficult spot. No parent wants to take away something their child loves, especially something that keeps them active and healthy. But she wasn’t healthy. Her actions were directly affecting her health. As much as I wanted to encourage her passions, I needed to consider her future.
I told her before the new season started. She was asking about the practice schedule when I said she wouldn’t be going back. She cried, heartbroken and confused. We’d talked about it before, but now it was real. The thing that shaped so much of who she was — I was taking it away. She cried as I explained that it was too hard on her body, that she was damaging her knees, that I wanted to protect her. She couldn’t understand. All she saw was loss.
Even though we had discussed the possibility, facing a reality without gymnastics was hard. She shaped her entire identity around what she could do in the gym. It felt almost as hard for me as it did for her.
It was the right decision for my daughter
It felt almost as hard for me as it did for her. In the end, I knew it was the best for her, even if she couldn’t see it. She struggled. So did I.
But slowly, she found new outlets, new joys, and new ways to move her body that didn’t take such a toll. It’s been five years since she last competed.
When I asked her recently if she missed it, she said yes, and that her knees still hurt every day. But now, she sees why I did it. She’s grateful, even if the loss still lingers. Stopping was the right choice to protect what I could of her future.
Sometimes, the hardest parenting decisions aren’t about what we let our kids do; they’re about what we make them stop.