Alysa Liu has recently skyrocketed in popularity due to her Olympic gold medal win for the United States at the recent Milano Cortina Winter Olympics.
The inspiring story of her return to skating after her early retirement on “her own terms” is a story many young and talented individuals can relate to.
Her story emphasizes the importance of taking space from an environment that is becoming toxic, and how, by doing so, one can regain control of one’s life, which can prevent future burnout.
Her story is one many can relate to: losing passion in something beloved, then returning to it and loving it more after giving yourself space to grow independently from the craft.
Then returning once ready knowing that you’re mentally ready to grow and thrive when immersing yourself in it yet again.
Alysa Liu’s story reminds me of my journey of learning instruments as a kid. I started off on the piano and then learned all sorts of percussion instruments as I began band in middle school.
In high school, I loved getting better and mastering the various mental and physical challenges learning percussion. I ended up joining the marching band, hoping for an experience of a lifetime.
My speciality was the marimba and my love for performance grew deeply as I was further involved in the marching arts. With this newfound passion and ever-growing knowledge of percussion, I felt good about myself and my progress.
But marching band, as many high school organizations can be, turned competitive and accusatory towards one another when we didn’t see the results that we wanted as a collective.
This growing toxicity destroyed my motivation to improve, to the point I was mentally checked out and drained each rehearsal, simply doing the bare minimum.
Why continue to practice when nobody seems to appreciate the effort?
I vividly remember slowly distancing myself from a close friend because of this competitiveness that was arising between us.
It got to a point where even being in the same room as this person while practicing forced my brain to always compare and doubt my own capabilities as a musician.
I knew I was capable, but how could I be around someone who is so talented while I was someone who could only learn pieces at a snail’s pace in comparison?
It is true that comparison is the thief of joy, but nobody gives you the tools to assist in re-wiring your brain to not do that!
Once I left high school, I felt a pressure lift off my chest, and entering college, I didn’t go back to playing an instrument. And for the entire entirety of my first semester, I did not join any band programs despite being tempted to get a taste of what was once so familiar.
It wasn’t until I stepped foot into Guitar Center for the first time this semester with my friends that I remembered: music is so much fun when you’re with the right people, and in the right headspace.
We stayed there for almost three hours, all of us immersed in our respective instruments, learning random things, and just enjoying our time there.
My friend even taught me how to play four chords on the guitar, an instrument I’ve rarely touched before. Through laughing and patience, I was able to play a short tune that didn’t sound too bad!
I slowly realized the barrier that prevented me thriving in high school was my environment.
That being able to recognize when something isn’t good for you is such a valuable skill, and that having distance from it is much healthier than sticking it out, hoping the passion will magically come back.
Alysa Liu’s journey back into skating and her success in it have really touched me, watching her beautiful performances online as well as her well-spoken interviews. Right now, I am not at the stage of my journey to completely return to music in a group-setting.
But I have the mental tools which will help me when I do.
Thank you, Alysa Liu, for vocalizing the importance of needing to step back from the things we love and giving us the strength to come back stronger than ever.
Have you ever had a passion you needed space from? Let us know @HerCampusSJSU!