Lifting Through the Chaos: How Mindfulness Keeps Me Grounded

For the past two years, my journey in weightlifting has been anything but linear. I’ve switched coaches, regressed in numbers, moved up two weight classes, and felt misunderstood and judged. On top of that, my secondhand trauma and CPTSD have been deeply triggered in gym environments, leading to one of the hardest battles yet—bombing out on platforms. When everything I had worked for started unraveling, I found myself drowning in grief and sadness, feeling like I was falling apart.

And yet, despite it all, lifting remained my sanctuary. Even when it felt like the very thing breaking me, it was also the thing keeping me together. Every lift gave me a moment of escape, a moment where my mind was clear, my body engaged, and the weight on the bar felt more manageable than the weight I was carrying inside.

The Chaos of Competition

One of the hardest parts wasn’t just the lifting itself—it was showing up prepared, only to step into what felt like chaos. Local competitions were loud, overstimulating, and overwhelming. While I was trying to focus, others were running around, yelling, celebrating, or psyching themselves up in ways that felt completely foreign to me.

I would tell myself, You’re okay. You’re safe. But my nervous system was in overdrive. I struggled to progress my numbers in training, and then had to walk into a competition environment that felt like sensory overload. I fought the self-talk that whispered, You don’t belong here. I wrestled with the conflict of wanting to fit in, yet feeling like an outsider. I burned out my social battery trying to make connections, hoping it would soften my fear, but instead, it left me drained before I even touched the barbell.

The struggle was real. And the embarrassment of needing to maneuver differently, of feeling like I had to work twice as hard just to exist in those spaces, weighed on me.

Mindfulness in the Midst of the Storm

What kept me going wasn’t just physical perseverance—it was my mindfulness practice. Through meditation, yoga, and self-reflection, I learned how to sit with my emotions instead of running from them. I allowed myself to feel the grief, the frustration, the doubt. I leaned into discomfort rather than resisting it, trusting that even in my lowest moments, there was something to learn.

Meditation became my lifeline, a space where I could breathe through the chaos and find clarity in uncertainty. Yoga helped me reconnect with my body, reminding me that strength isn’t just about numbers on a barbell but about presence and awareness. Mindfulness gave me the ability to self-assess without judgment—to see my struggles not as failures, but as part of a greater process.

And through it all, I remained open to guidance—from above, from within, and from the moments of synchronicity that always seem to show up when I need them most. Just when I begin to question my path, I receive clarity—whether through meditation, a sign, or a feeling deep within that reminds me to trust myself.

The Journey Continues

Lifting is more than a sport for me; it is a mirror, a teacher, a form of moving meditation. It challenges me, humbles me, and rebuilds me piece by piece. The very thing that was unraveling me was also making me stronger.

So, I will keep showing up. I will keep lifting—not just the weights, but myself. Because growth isn’t always clean or easy. Sometimes it’s messy. Sometimes it’s painful. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that perseverance—rooted in mindfulness and self-awareness—will always lead me exactly where I’m meant to be.

I competed four days ago at Master’s Nationals. As my coach put it, it wasn’t my best, but it wasn’t my worst! I felt, once again, devastated and questioned what the hell I’m doing lifting. But my coach and teammates kept me going with their outpouring of upbeat, authentic support and love. It was amazing! Friends I’ve made at competitions lifted me up with their positivity just by showing up to watch. This sense of community, of belonging, is still very new to me.

As I sat in reflection with an open mind, I realized this competition—like all competitions—was exactly what it needed to be. It was warm. It was loving. I felt accepted and seen, free from pressure. The vibe was high, and for the first time, I wasn’t battling fear or scrambling to calm myself—I was floating. It was the reset I didn’t know I needed.

Sure, I let my mindset slide, and that affected my performance. But that wasn’t the lesson this time. This time, I was meant to experience love and acceptance as the authentic athlete I am.

I also increased my total from my last competition by 3kg, so it’s only up from here! It took a shift in perspective—moving away from focusing on where I’ve been and how I’ve regressed to seeing this as an opportunity to reset, rebuild, and ultimately surpass where I once was.