Reflections: Natalee Roseberry-Garrett
I’ll never forget that day sitting in front of the Virginia Tech Swimming & Diving Coaching Staff, tears in my eyes and dreams broken at my feet. My greatest fear had met me head on and I was standing inches away from the end of my life as I had ever known it. I remember walking out of the athletic offices and not even feeling the ground. My hands were cold, my mouth dry and a numbness I had never felt before. I sat down on the curb and watched the 30,000 other students happily carry on with their day in beautiful Blacksburg, VA. As for me? Panic.
In the grand scheme of things, my story is short but feels like a lifetime. The prelude to my journey into collegiate sports, begins with a very outgoing 6 year old, standing on the starting blocks at an annual Invitational Meet. My dreams of winning my first blue ribbon were crushed when I realized it was actually a 50 yard Freestyle…not a 25. Fast forward 10 years laterand I’m behind the block of NCSA Nationals in Orlando, FL. I had made it to the A-Final in 100 Backstroke only to find out I probably shouldn’t have skipped so many long course practices. However, back home in my tiny southern rural town I was the “MVP” style athlete. Not many swimmers had passed through south western Virginia and you were essentially a superstar if picture was featured in “The Southwest Times.” My senior year of High School was my claim to fame. State Championship, Homecoming Queen, and Recruiting letters coming by mail everyday…what more could a young female athlete ask for?
I had been maybe the third kid to sign onto a scholarship at an ACC school to ever come through my high school, so there wasn’t much of a signing ceremony. However, I wore my new Alma Mater proud and was going to be the 4th in my family to be a Hokie. In the midst of my excitement, I met a guy. He seemed to have popped up out of nowhere; funny thing is we had been neighbors our whole lives. As I was trying to make the transition to Blacksburg, something kept typing me down to home. That something, was him.
The first day of practice I was standing beside National Champions, Olympic athletes and All- Americans. Intimidated, but determined I fought through my first season of being an H2Okie. I realized quickly that my body was not accustomed to this type of training and it was harder “drinking the Kool-Aid” than I thought. I also learned that in order for people to like you, they must know you. I never gave my team the chance. I found myself at the butt end of inside team jokes and the outcast of the group. I woke up daily with a broken heart and started to lose motivation to succeed. I turned my brokenness to home and ran back with my tail tucked between my legs. My grades and dream of being a great Hokie were failing. I lived in my run down Pontiac and ran the roads at all hours. I became afraid of my coaches, my parents… of everything.
Emotionally shattered and mentally exhausted I started finding ways to punish myself by exhausting my body. The crowd I had found myself in was full of partying and things my Mom warned me about. Losing sight and sense of who I was, I quickly found myself in therapy for an eating disorder. It was the only way I felt I could be accepted and loved at that time. My body was all I had and it was all I could do to get skinnier. I skipped meals, worked out 3 times a day and pushed myself to limits of passing out. I even woke up in the hospital once.
One Saturday morning I came shuffling into practice. I put on my cap and goggles and sank into the pool. I looked up at the white board only to see “8 x 200’s Pull w/ paddles.” I remember thinking I really hope I pass out so I can get out of this. I was gliding into a turn on my third 50 of the second 200, when I felt someone touch my feet. As I flipped around, I saw a teammate about to lap me. I remember feeling so angry, so tired of being lapped, tired of being made fun of and tired of never being good enough.
I slammed my feet against the wall and started to sprint. As I puffed and pulled towards the other end, I felt a “click” in my right shoulder. All of the sudden a wave of nausea flooded me. I turned green and gasped for air. Struggling to get out of the pool, I remember the stares of “what now?” I looked down at my lifeless hand and with all my might scrambled to the locker room. I was desperate for no one to see me, but for someone to care. I knew something was wrong and I reluctantly walked to our trainer. I remember calling my Dad to tell him…my biggest fan. I remember the hoarse words he choked out. He knew I was done.
On February 2nd, 2014, I had rotator cuff surgery, followed by 8 weeks of physical therapy and 2 months recovery from the water. I was forced to take a semester off of school. I watched as the team flourished without me and the call into the office to end it all.
On June 1st, 2014 I recovered what I had left of my broken life from the person I blame majority of my failures on. I walked out and never went back. This will always be known as my independence day.
On July 13th, 2014, I received a clean bill of health from my therapist who had helped me struggle out of the majority of the Eating Disorder.
In April 2015th, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. During this year I tried swimming again, only to break my foot days after excelling at my first meet.
On December 16th, 2016 I received my diploma from Virginia Tech.
It’s been almost 4 years since my life changed forever. I am now married to a man who loves me unconditionally, regardless of my Lululemon size. I landed a management job and am a home owner. However, my past is like a cloud on a sunny day. I always find its shadow lingering around my happiness. My identity was rooted in my sport, and I found myself starting over from scratch multiple times. I’ve tried yoga, fitness competitions, I even did CrossFit for 2 weeks. It wasn’t until one month ago I was able to get back into the water with a different mentality. Time is teaching me patience, forgiveness and that there is a bigger plan for me elsewhere.
Sweetheart, every day you will look in the mirror and find something wrong with the reflection looking back, every day you will feel larger than you were and every day you will smile anyway.
My point is this: take it from someone who had the 8 pack and the thousands of followers…it’s an empty void. Take it from someone who’s only purpose was to compete…I’m happy now somehow. You are not a disappointment. Life is a book and you are simply entering your next chapter.
