About
This started with
one story.
My story is complicated, and honestly, I think most of these stories are. There are a lot of layers. What happened to me isn't unique — which is one of the reasons I've become more comfortable talking about it.
I was the head coach of a high school girls swim team in the Chicago suburbs for two years. My first season was everything I hoped coaching would be. I loved my athletes, we were successful, and I truly felt like I had found where I belonged.
My second season was very different.
The year began with a series of challenges that put me into survival mode almost immediately. We lost pool access. I was coaching a large team without an assistant. And I found myself navigating increasing conflict with a small group of parents.
Context I've never shared publicly until now
My athletic director had previously been the head coach of the program before hiring me. He had coached many of the athletes and had longstanding relationships with several of the parents.
Looking back, I believe those existing relationships shaped the environment in ways that made it difficult for me to navigate the growing conflict.
As the season progressed, one parent became unhappy when I would not make special accommodations for her daughter. I became aware that she was speaking negatively about me to other parents, and I constantly felt like I was coaching under a microscope.
What made the situation especially difficult was that I repeatedly sought guidance from my athletic director. I knew he understood the personalities involved and hoped he could help navigate the situation. Instead, I was told parents were unhappy but was never given a clear path forward. He controlled a lot of the parent conversations and kept me in the dark while also telling me he supported me. His actions and words never aligned.
Over time, I felt increasingly isolated, confused, and worn down.
Eventually, that pressure caught up with me.
Near the end of the season, I was asked to address a bullying issue involving several athletes. I did not handle it well. I became emotional. I raised my voice. I reacted in a way that was completely out of character for me as a coach.
I'm not proud of that moment, and I would absolutely handle it differently today.
That moment became the justification for removing me from the program. I was placed on administrative leave for the remainder of the championship season.
It was devastating for not only me, but also my athletes.
For a long time, I focused almost entirely on that one moment. I convinced myself it proved I was a terrible coach. I felt embarrassed, ashamed, and certain I would never coach again. The swimming world is small, and I assumed everyone knew what had happened.
Over time, though, my perspective changed.
I learned that the most important question wasn't, "Why did I react?" It became, "What had been happening for months that led me to react in a way that was so unlike who I normally am?"
I had spent months feeling isolated, undermined, criticized, and unsupported. I had spent months trying to navigate conflict without clear leadership or meaningful intervention. Eventually, I reached a breaking point.
That doesn't excuse my behavior. I own my mistake completely. But I also believe context matters. And through sharing my story, I've discovered that versions of this experience are happening to coaches everywhere.
The bigger picture
One of the things I've found the courage to talk about is the emotional and psychological toll that unhealthy environments can have on coaches.
We rightly spend a great deal of time talking about athlete well-being, but we spend far less time talking about what happens when coaches become the target of unhealthy parent dynamics, organizational dysfunction, or a lack of leadership support.
The biggest lesson I've taken away from my experience is to trust myself as a coach.
For a long time, I questioned my judgment, my abilities, and whether I belonged in coaching at all. What I've learned is that one difficult season and one mistake do not define who I am as a coach.
I'm not a perfect coach, and I never will be. But I know my values. I know my intentions. And I know the kind of environment I want to create for my athletes.
More than anything, I want other coaches to trust themselves, too.
Coaching can be one of the most rewarding professions in the world, but it can also be incredibly isolating. When you're constantly being criticized or second-guessed, it's easy to start believing every problem is your fault.
Sometimes there are things we genuinely need to improve. And sometimes we need the courage to say, "No. This isn't right."
That realization is what led me to begin sharing my story publicly. It also led to something bigger.
Many coaches have reached out to me and shared their own stories. It made me realize how many people were carrying similar experiences in silence. Different sports. Different schools. Different circumstances. But the same feelings of isolation, confusion, and self-doubt.
This website exists because those stories deserve a place to be told.
If sharing my story helps even one coach trust themselves, advocate for themselves, or simply feel a little less alone, then everything I've been through has found a purpose.
— Sophie