I hated the identity of a basketball player

By: Angie Bjorklund

IG: @bjorklundangie

I so much hated being identified as a basketball player. I hated it and loved it, a combo that just stirred havoc in my body. To be recognized as one, and an elite one, still gives me a tightness in my chest and a punch to my gut just thinking about it. Yet I desperately relied on it. I am so much more than a basketball player. I am a full, well rounded, human. I loved walking in the wilderness, or anywhere outside of a basketball environment, or meeting people that knew nothing about sports. Those people became my best friends. The ones who asked me in January if my season started yet. My response was, “gosh I love you.” With them, I felt myself shift and I was able to settle in to all the sides that made me, ME, not just the basketball side. To learn about, love, and develop other parts of me too. To be loved without them knowing anything about my performance let’s just say I could breathe a little bit better.

At the height of my career, I saw how people treated me differently when they recognized me as Angie, the basketball player. It made my insides turn every time, made me want to run away. They called me humble for it, I call it dehumanizing to only be seen for it. My personhood was stripped from me in their eyes. Because when you put someone on a platform, or if they gain notoriety, or are “othered” in anyway, you stop seeing them as a person. They didn’t actually see ME. And it made me uncomfortable. Every time a camera shined on me, and interviews started, I literally was trained to be fake, politically correct, well spoken, mannered. I don’t think I once actually genuinely answered a basketball interview question. And I was applauded for it.

People always said “use that!” For what? “Use it to glorify God, or use it to gain followers, to influence others in a positive way.” I in no way want anyone to follow my lead. If I influence them I hope its just to be themselves, not like me. There’s only one of me. There’s only one of you. I want to speak my truth so hopefully others can be free to speak theirs too. I want to be my ridiculous, weird and goofy self, to show it’s okay to be yourself, and be unique. And I am just now learning how to do that. It took retirement from sports to start. 

Regardless of my attempt to push away the label “basketball player”, no matter how much I resisted it, Angie the basketball player was ingrained as an identity from such a young age, and it stuck. Quitting basketball has been the most disorienting thing I have ever experienced. The best/worst thing ever. The sport was my safe place, my mask, my thing that covered up all the other parts of me that I never learned to love and accept… or even develop! Or to even talk about! When people talked to me, they talked about basketball. Always. Now without it, all they have is me, and it’s terrifying.

Having it taken from me, also took off my blinders, to see how dependent I was on basketball for my self-esteem and self-worth. And wow how tempting it is to just pick up another identity to gain my worth. Or to pick up another mask to hide my deep feelings of not being good enough. 

Current life goal: step into a new thing, completely fail at it (because any new thing means failing over and over till you get it), and not changing how I feel about myself. Because I am not what I do. I am a person, just like everyone else, regardless of how I perform.

Everyday, we walk around and label as we see people. “Grocery bagger, barista, bartender, the mayor, the athlete, the parent, the president.” But try and remove the label. And all you see is a person. The same as yourself. Just a bunch of stressed out bodies walking around, doing the best they can.

I apologize to the countless people I treated differently because of what they do. The people I put on a pedestal or platform for being a celebrity or of high esteem or authority. How easy it was to judge them for every little thing, especially the higher the platform I gave them. Or how I judged simply based on my perception on how they should perform their given “label.” How easy it was to be mad when they didn’t live up to these expectations. I am sorry. You are and always will be a person, and that’s the most important thing. No matter what you do. I love you, just for being a person. (Now re read the last paragraph.. but this time say it to yourself)

I’m forever thankful for all my family and friends who got to see the real me outside of sports. And who loved me for it. And I am looking forward to everyone I connect with now, because now that’s all you get!