Dear Gymnastics

You have been with me for as long as I can remember.

Before I knew what college gymnastics meant.

Before I knew what the SEC was.

Before I knew how much you would shape who I am.

You gave me structure. You gave me discipline. You gave me some of my closest friendships and the lessons that would follow me far beyond the gym. For a long time, you were also how I defined myself — the thing people pointed to and said, “That’s Elise. She does gymnastics.”

And like most kids who fall in love with this sport early, I had a vision. I imagined the big arenas, the packed crowds, the feeling of competing at the highest level of college gymnastics. I thought I knew exactly what that path would look like.

But gymnastics rarely follows the path you draw as a kid.

There were injuries at the wrong times. Recruiting slowed. While others committed early, I was still working, still hoping, still trying to prove I belonged. Eventually, Towson became my home — and it was the best thing that could have happened to me. They believed in me when not many others did. They gave me the chance to grow, to compete, to find confidence again.

And I’m forever grateful for that.

But somewhere along the way, I started to feel a quiet question in the back of my mind.

What if?

What if I never explored everything this sport could give me?

What if I walked away wondering how far I could have gone?

What if I left gymnastics with regrets?

That was the hardest part. Entering the transfer portal wasn’t exciting at first — it was terrifying.

There were moments I wondered if I had made a mistake, if no one would want me, if I had just derailed everything. But as the conversations started, something shifted. Coaches reached out.

Opportunities opened. And for the first time, I realized I wasn’t just chasing a dream — I was being invited into one.

When I started looking for my next step, I knew exactly what mattered. I wanted culture — not just a close team, but a group where every person was bought in. I wanted collective goals. I wanted to be part of a program chasing something bigger than any one individual. I wanted the full collegiate athletic experience — resources, support, and people invested in me not just as a gymnast, but as a person.

And then I found Missouri.

From the beginning, it felt different. The conversations were genuine. The interest was real. The questions weren’t just about routines or scores — they were about my goals, my classes, my life outside the gym. When I visited, I saw a team that believed in each other. I saw coaches who pushed athletes to be their best while also caring about who they were off the floor. I saw resources that supported every aspect of the student-athlete experience — academic, athletic, and personal.

Most importantly, I saw a culture where everyone was all in.

I remember watching Missouri compete before I ever wore the uniform. I wasn’t just watching routines — I was watching reactions. How did they respond to mistakes? How did they handle adversity? What did the team look like when things weren’t perfect? And what I saw was a group that stayed connected, stayed confident, and kept fighting for each other.

That told me everything I needed to know.

When I arrived in Columbia, there were moments that felt surreal. I had worked my whole life for opportunities like this, and suddenly I was living them. But what made it special wasn’t just the stage — it was the people. The teammates who welcomed me. The coaches who believed in me.

The shared mission that made every practice, every meet, every challenge feel meaningful.

And then came the moments you dream about.

Standing with a team chasing history.

Competing alongside women who refused to back down.

Feeling the energy of a program rising together.

Those are the moments that remind you why you took the leap.

Looking back now, I realize this journey gave me something I didn’t even know I needed. It gave me closure. It gave me confidence. It gave me the chance to finish my career without wondering “what if.” Most of all, it gave me a place that felt like home — even though I didn’t start here.

To the gymnast who might be reading this, wondering about her own path — whether you’re in high school, in college, or considering a transfer — trust yourself. Look for the place where the culture matches your ambition. Look for people who invest in you as more than an athlete. Look for teammates who celebrate you and challenge you. Look for a program that is chasing something together.

For me, that place was Missouri.

Gymnastics has given me everything — the community, the lessons, the resilience. But it also taught me that the journey doesn’t have to be linear to be meaningful. Sometimes the dream you imagined as a kid doesn’t disappear. Sometimes it just waits until you’re ready for it.

And when you find the right place, it becomes even better than you imagined

Love always,