what gymnastics taught me about confidence (and how you can build confidence too)
Six Months of Recovery.
Three Months of Physical Therapy.
One Question: "Will I Recover?"
After a decade of relentless training, I arrived at my dream college, but just being there wasn’t enough. I needed to stand out. I wasn’t satisfied with being an excellent dancer—I wanted to be the rare performer who could also tumble. Male dancers are scarce, but those who can flip through the air are even more coveted.
I thought I was just learning to tumble. Instead, I stumbled upon one of the most valuable lessons of my life.
Four months in, I was barely keeping pace with 9-year-olds who effortlessly hurled themselves through the air. It was humbling. But giving up wasn’t an option. I was on the path to fulfilling a dream I had chased since childhood. I was starting to gain consistency with my back handspring, so I pushed myself harder, determined to succeed.
I pushed.
And pushed.
Until I pushed too hard.
Fatigue and hesitation culminated in a night that ended with two sprained elbows and a trip to the hospital. But the injury wasn’t the worst part. What followed would redefine who I was and teach me the secret to building confidence.
My stubbornness wouldn’t let me stop dancing, and continuing to lift girls over my head with sprained elbows only delayed my recovery. It wasn’t until nine months after the injury that I attempted a back handspring again. My return was nothing short of crushing. Fear had taken root in both my body and mind, and I couldn’t throw myself backward without twisting to see the ground. It felt like I wasn’t just starting over—I was in a worse place than when I began. I wasn’t at the starting line; I was facing a new challenge with a mountain to climb before I could even get back to where I was.
I felt defeated.
From that moment, everything else in my life took a backseat to tumbling. Every morning at 8 AM, I was at the gym, practicing my back handspring before my first class. Despite my dedication, I couldn’t overcome my fear. I had to twist—I didn’t trust my arms to catch me. I didn’t trust my body to protect me from injury. I wasn’t confident I would ever master this skill.
But who would I be if I gave up now? Would this define the standard I set for myself for the rest of my life? This was about more than just tumbling. I needed to prove that I could conquer any obstacle. I needed assurance that I could learn anything I set my mind to, no matter how difficult.
So, I kept showing up.
I repeated. Refined.
And I discovered that confidence is built through consistency.
A year and a half later, I’m tackling skills far more challenging than a back handspring. But that handspring will always be special because it taught me a life-altering lesson about confidence. Confidence isn’t something you’re born with—it’s built slowly, through repetition and consistency. Every day you show up, your body becomes more familiar with the skill. More importantly, your brain begins to trust in your ability to execute. Confidence was the key to unlocking this skill, and it had to be earned.
Earn your confidence through consistency.