“Do you miss it?” PART 2
3. Do I miss my identity as a diver?
This is a hard question to conceptualize, and I do not yet have a solid answer. I don’t know if I ever will. But, to start somewhere, I’ve tried explaining my complicated identity as an athlete through the use of a metaphor. (This might get a little weird, but bear with me here).
The metaphor is this:
Once upon a time, I was in an intense love affair with the sport of diving. This relationship included everything that a great romance often does: tears of laughter, pride, love, and triumph; but also tears of anger, disappointment, stress, and pain. Sometimes my self-worth depended on how I performed in the pool, a telltale indication of a toxic relationship. I’ve lost count of how many things I’ve sacrificed for my relationship with diving– but I can also say the same for the list of things I’ve gained from it. At the top of this list: confidence, life-long friends, work ethic, poise, powerful intrinsic motivation. For almost a decade, I’ve chosen to put both positive and negative energy into my “love affair” with diving. Now, after officially leaving the relationship that took up so much of me, I’m faced with the question of if I “miss it.”
Is it possible to miss something so thought-consuming and complex? Is it possible not to miss something like that? The question posed is too simple, because the answer is both “yes” and “no” at the same time. Ending anything that you have poured so much identity into for so long is terrifying and exciting and relieving and heartbreaking all at once.
It would be silly to ask someone fresh from a breakup if they “miss” the relationship. The question isn’t helpful, and because of this I don’t think it would be helpful if I applied it to diving either. So, instead of coming up with an answer to the question of if I “miss” who I was as a diver, I’ve come up with a new question instead:
“Where are you in the grieving process?”
This question stems from a concept explained in a Psychology Today article, which describes how the emotional reaction triggered by a significant loss, such as an important relationship breakup, can mirror the emotional response brought on by the death of a loved one. The article maintains that the Kübler-Ross model of grief – more recognizable by the name “The Five Stages of Grief” – can occur “after any kind of loss.”
The model consists of five different emotional phases that a person may pass through after experiencing a loss. These five phases include denial, anger, bargaining, sadness, and acceptance; although not necessarily in that order. Grief as an emotion manifests differently for each person, meaning that the Five Stages of Grief vary from person to person. For example, someone might experience one phase numerous times, while someone else might skip completely over that same phase. Another person might pass through multiple stages all at once.
I am not suggesting that the grief I feel over the end of my athletic career is comparable to that experienced by those mourning the death of a loved one. To say this would be naive and insensitive, especially right after explaining how individualized the grieving process is between different people and situations. My only goal here is to communicate a sense of how intensely and immediately the end of my diving career affected my identity and my life. That kind of loss, the kind that touches everything all at once, is one of the most powerful sensations I’ve ever felt.
In the 7 months since my career ended, I’ve gone through every emotional stage mentioned in the Kübler-Ross model of grief. Do I miss my identity as a diver? I can’t say yes or no for sure. But what I can do is describe each moment that’s passed since my very last dive; each moment of denial, anger, bargaining, sadness and acceptance I’ve experienced. And that feels like enough of an answer for now.