Chloe O'Brien

To yield the best result in any difficult task, you need a strong reason for your undertaking. A common thread between the world’s most successful is that all of these people know their “why.” Professional athletes, renowned artists, and talented mathematicians all need to know why they get up in the morning. So what do you do when your life changes? What happens when you are no longer able to practice your passion in the way you are used to? Is it possible to reexamine your “why”?
My name is Chloe O’Brien, and I am a rising senior on Clemson University’s rowing team. This is at least my eighth attempt at writing this story. Each previous attempt, I’ve only made it a few paragraphs in and have always closed my laptop, feeling discontent in what I have written. However, this time around, I think that I have a better angle. In my previous tries at writing this story, I wrote a lot about what has happened up to this point. How I have rowed for eight years and how my injury, bilateral labrum tears, had resulted in two hip surgeries and the end of my racing season in a sport that I love. Instead of dwelling on the past, I’d like to write from a perspective that is more authentic to the story that I am trying to live.
Success has always been a gold, shimmery, shiny word to me. I enjoy the sparkles that come with it, and honestly, I enjoy when the sparkles are bright enough for everyone else to see them. I have always been very internally inspired but also find a lot of motivation in external validation and praises, so it wasn’t a surprise to me when two hip surgeries and a canceled season left me feeling very empty inside. I don’t want to simplify all of my negative emotions surrounding my injury to my new perceived lack of success because there was a lot more to it than that. Distance from friends, teammates, coaches, and the sport I love all piled on top of my mess of unhappiness. Lately, I have been working on untangling this mess, and I’ve realized that I need to do some SERIOUS mindset renovation if I’m going to come out of this situation better than I was before.
While success is not my only motivating driver to action, I would have to be lacking a lot of self-awareness not to realize this motivation’s nagging presence in the back of my mind. In the upcoming months of my recovery, I want to find success in everyday wins and recognize that not all success looks the same. There is no magic success book that equates your wins to a certain number of points that will eventually deem you “the best.” Positive reinforcement from people or numbers or other data is nice, but what are you supposed to do when all of that goes away? Can you still be happy without knowing that someone gave you an A+? There are many people out there who can, but I have realized over the past few months that I am definitely not one of those people. At least I’m not yet. In an effort to become someone who does things not just for the good grade, I am working on finding a better reason for my “why.”
My left hip surgery was on March 11th, and my right hip surgery was on April 29th. Today marks about seven weeks since my second operation and many months since I have been able to row. While I know there is much more to me than being an athlete, the sudden absence of this sport in my life has made it difficult for me to see that. Being an athlete, in many ways, was my reason to row before my injury. I found comfort in waking up every day to compete and push myself to my limits. In addition to being left wondering, “Who am I without rowing?”, my inability to work out has been problematic for me in other ways. Exercise is an excellent way for me to keep my mental health in check, and without my usual endorphins, I have been a lot more anxious lately than I would like. The recovery from labrum repair surgery back to rowing is a slow process, which definitely exacerbates my nervous thoughts regarding if I will be able to row my senior year.
While space from my sport and my recovery process has been difficult for me, there are many positives that I am taking away from my situation. I most definitely would not be in the optimistic headspace that I am in today without my athletic trainers at Clemson and my physical therapist at home. They have advocated for my physical and mental health and have helped me find perspective whenever I’m a little bit impatient with myself (an approximately everyday occurrence ). I recognize that not every athlete struggling with injury has been as lucky as I have with a supportive environment, and this is one of the reasons I think Stronger Scars is so important. Reading other people’s stories is sometimes just the support that student-athletes need to realize that they are not alone.
Another positive that I am trying to take away from my injuries is the ability to embrace uncertainty. This is a strength that I am still working on developing, but because my recovery is not guaranteed for next year, I have the opportunity to get stronger every day. I’ve struggled with anxiety for as long as I can remember, and while sports have always been a positive outlet to relieve some of my nerves, they have also been the catalyst for some of my worst experiences with my anxiety. There have been days where my body has felt so overpowered by my own mind that it’s difficult to remember why I do this sport in the first place. My goal is to take this time away from rowing to focus on coming back physically and mentally healthier than I was before. I am going to reexamine my “why.” When I get back to practice in the fall, I will seek not just success but also joy. Rowing is a sport that I truly love, and I know that I always perform better when I am happier.
I am entering my last year of collegiate rowing, and whatever happens, I want to be the best mental version of myself and the best teammate I can be. As athletes, we choose to wake up at the crack of dawn for practice. We choose to miss hangouts with friends for lifts, training, or races. We choose to go to bed early or to stay up late to accommodate our workouts and school schedule. We make these choices every day. To make all of these sacrifices, we have to have a reason. In my time away from rowing, I have dismantled my ideas about what is most valuable to me. While racing again is one of my biggest goals, it is far from my biggest reason for coming back. I’ve learned that what is more important to me than racing - or any accolade I could ever accomplish - is the sport of rowing itself. Separation from my team has shown me that it’s the supportive team environment of rowing that makes so many of the sacrifices worth it. I’m not sure if I will ever race again, but I am more compelled and determined than ever to show up and be there for my friends. I adore my team, and I look forward to coming to practice every day to compete and work towards our goals. I hope that I can race next year, but even more than that, I want to spend one more year with my friends doing what I love.