It’s Okay to Not Be Okay 

By: Saint Thomas

Today, I’m comfortable enough with myself to not be okay. There was a time, not too long ago, when I would look in the mirror and be just disgusted with the person looking back at me. But now, I’m okay. 

I go to practice, I go to school, knowing that there are going to be struggles. There are going to be good days, and bad days. But none of those things are going to break me.

— 

I grew up in Omaha, Nebraska, and basketball was my everything. Scoring points, winning games, earning accolades. All-State, All-American. I was getting recruited. But it wasn’t all as perfect as it may have seemed from the outside. 

Throughout high school I lost four people who were close to me, including my best friend’s mom. She was like a second mother to me. My friend moved away and I never really grieved that loss, never had a moment to realize the cumulative effect of these losses on me. But I pushed through it, because there were people counting on me to be the best basketball player I could be. I was counting on myself. I wanted to make a difference for my family, make money. So, I went to Loyola Chicago for the next step in my playing career. 

My freshman year we won the Missouri Valley Conference and clinched a spot in the NCAA Tournament. My sophomore year, I didn’t play a game after the beginning of January.

Basketball was my everything, but it had become too much. Basketball was driving me to a place where if I had a bad game, it would put a strain on my relationships and it would linger. It was at this point that I didn’t like the man in the mirror looking back at me. I felt so connected to my friend’s mom, who had died by suicide, and I understood how she felt.

I knew I had to take a break. 

I stepped away from basketball, stepped away from the team, stepped away from school and went home. 

No one agreed with my decision. But I had to make these decisions in order to keep myself alive.

When I went home I stayed with my AAU coach, Coach Moseman and his family. They didn’t look at me as just a hooper, they looked at me as Saint. I became a big brother to his kids, to the siblings I never had. They would brag about me bringing them ice cream to school, hanging out with them, and it made me realize, ‘They are proud of me, they want to be around me, and I’m not even playing basketball.’

It was a wake up call. 

I worked through my feelings, my emotions, my grief. People were counting on me to punch in every day. Not just as a basketball player, but as a person. As a friend, as a brother.

And the crazy thing is, as I worked through this and was okay stepping away from the game, it brought me back to basketball even stronger. Now, my why has changed. God brought me to basketball and gave me these abilities for a reason. My platform is basketball, but my purpose is not. My purpose is so much more than that: To use my voice. To share my story.

Men, but especially male athletes, often feel like we have to put on this persona that we’re strong, brave, nothing can break us, but we’re human and we deal with all the things that everyone else does in life. I want people to know that it’s safe to talk about not being okay. There is space for you to exist and to have these conversations in sports.

When I entered the transfer portal after last season at Northern Colorado, the biggest thing I was looking for was a coaching staff that was going to be very approachable, who I could talk to and who would take me in with open ears and open arms. I wanted to put myself in a situation where I felt comfortable with the whole staff and my teammates, and that’s exactly what I’ve found here at SC. 

I’ve never been part of a team where even though we’re all new, and we’ve only known each other for a few months, it feels like we’ve known each other for years. We’re not afraid of having those tough conversations, but it just makes the relationships that much stronger. I’m a lead by example type, I try to set an example in the way I approach the day, how I come to practice every day. I’m confident in those aspects of my game and myself now, but it wasn’t always that way. So, I also lead by holding space for the highs and the lows, the good and the bad, and letting my teammates know that I’m always here when they need to talk, just like they are for me. I lead through my vulnerability. Because everyone needs to know: It’s okay to not be okay.