Why did you write this book?

I’ve been writing for a long time, in various forms. Never memoir. Never anything that anyone has seen, other than my friends. But I kept at it, because it’s kind of a compulsion. And I just want to get better so I keep practicing.

After reading a string of really good and some not so good memoirs, I asked myself, “What makes a memoir work? Why are some good and some aren’t that great?” While I love the addiction memoir, some were much more engaging than others. Why? I realized, it was the writing as well as the content that produced a compelling and resonant read. I know that sounds obvious, but it struck me like a bolt of lightening. And I thought, I think I can do this. Because people had always been interested in tidbits about my gymnastics career, I felt I had the content part. The question was: could I write it in a way that made it stand out? I decided to take a shot.

Ultimately, I wrote it because I want to write. It’s an unusual story about childhood and coming of age. It is not, nor was it ever intended to be an indictment of the sport of gymnastics, or my coaches in particular.

Have you kept in touch with your coaches over the years?

The short answer is no. The long answer follows:

While I was competing, I revered my coaches. I felt if I just did what they told me to do, I’d succeed. Therefore, I followed their instructions without question. Towards the end of my career, when I was very unhappy, depressed and injured, I started to question whether they had my best interests at heart. When I left their gym, they were very angry with me. It was humiliating for them to have a national champion leave for another gym. Though I didn’t even end up competing again, they would have preferred it if I’d just quit. Well, they would have preferred it if I’d kept going. But that became impossible for me.

I don’t keep in touch with them. They were extremely upset when I left their gym. And I was angry about a lot of things, including the way I felt they’d emotionally abused us girls. But I’m not angry anymore. We went there because we wanted to be the best. They took that very seriously, if somewhat cavalierly. I eventually realized that everything I did in gymnastics was my choice.

Why were you angry after your gymnastics career?

I was tired, injured, emotionally beaten down and depressed. I had no idea what came next. I felt ready for the retirement home while others were ready to start their lives. I was only 19. I’d found my passion, made it quite far in the sport, but it isn’t something you can make a career of. It isn’t like baseball, or tennis or golf, where the best of the best pursue their passion professionally. And I wasn’t an Olympic champion like Mary Lou Retton, who could build a career off of notoriety. I did well, but not that well. At 19, I had a broken body, no relationship with my parents, I was heartsick over having let people down, and I had no future that I could conjure. Gymnastics was everything I’d ever imagined for myself. And it was over. I was angry.

When did you stop being angry?

When I realized I had a long life ahead of me. And that I could accomplish many more things, make many more friends, fall in love, have a family. That my life did not amount to that single moment of winning the U.S. Championships. That I was more than a gymnast.

How do your parents feel about the book?

They are very proud. It upset them to recount some of the difficulties we had, some of the missteps they recognize they made, some of the pain and anguish they watched me endure. But they are proud that I was able to sit down and write it. They are terrific and very brave parents.

Do you have advice for parents whose children are participating in gymnastics or competitive athletics?

I’m not anti athletics. In fact, I’m very much in favor of children participating in sports. Sports do all the things they are supposed to do in most instances: build healthy bodies, self-esteem, team camaraderie, sportsmanship, teach the lesson that with hard work comes accomplishment. But I’d advise parents to pay attention to your child’s mood. If she isn’t happy, it’s not worth it. That’s not to say the minute it gets rough or competitive, pull them out. But if your child’s personality changes, if stress is taking over, if she seems depressed, talk to her. Take a break. It’s a parents’ job to keep a child safe. From others and themselves. And children don’t always know what is best for them.

Is there a single message or piece of advice you would like all parents, coaches and gymnasts to know when they all embark on a journey like yours?
There is life beyond sport, beyond gymnastics.

Is there a single message you’d like people to take away from the book?

Not really. I hope people find many ways into the story. Ultimately, I hope it’s broader than just gymnastics. Some people will appreciate the mother-daughter tale, others will identify with the pursuit of excellence, for some the struggle with body issues and an eating disorder will be what hits home and for others it will be about what it was like to grow up at a certain period of time – the 70s and 80s – in America. In my mind, it’s about a child growing up. Finding her way, on her own terms. Getting comfortable with her own choices, with disappointing people, learning who she is. It’s a coming of age story. I hope it’s about more than just gymnastics. And I hope people appreciate the writing as well as the content.