I Want To Be Here

I don’t want to do this anymore. 

I’m tired of this. 

Life is SO exhausting.

Those kinds of thoughts had been nagging my brain for so long, I don’t think I even realized I was sinking. The whole time I thought I was treading water, I was actually slipping away. Picture yourself underwater, facing up toward the sky and just…. fading. Fading, until you can no longer see the surface. Fading, until you finally reach the darkest part of the ocean. That was me.

It happened so randomly. About two years ago, after months of feeling kind of numb, I woke up one morning feeling everything. Every anxious thought I’d ever had about myself hit me all at once. My anxiety was at an all-time high. My mind said, I don’t want to do this anymore.

“This,” meaning life.

I had probably been depressed for six months. It all started at the end of my freshman year at Stanford. Then when I transferred to UCLA, there was hype around my name, and I just never dealt with my emotions. Gradually, it became really bad, until I started drowning.

That morning, I knew the headspace that I was in was too dangerous to ignore. I’d never felt so scared in my entire life. I don’t want to do this anymore…. That horrible thought kept popping up in my mind. I couldn’t go back to my day-to-day and just pretend like nothing happened. I felt like there was no other option but to go to a hospital. I was just like, There’s no other way out. Either I’m going there, or I’m doomed. I was desperate. I called my trainer at the time, and they came and picked me up.

That afternoon, I checked myself into the UCLA hospital. I remember there weren’t even enough rooms because there were so many people in the psych ward who also desperately needed help. So, I was put in the hallway, with people screaming and shouting all night. I didn’t get any sleep. I just laid on that gurney wondering how my teammates were doing. The whole experience was really hard. I was a hot mess. Doctors checked in on me throughout the day. People came to visit, and I begged them to take me home. I was not happy. The food is terrible. You don’t have your phone, you don’t have anything — you’re just laying there, alone with your thoughts. If you’re in a bad headspace and you really need professional help, please go and take care of yourself because it is the BEST option over doing something else. But I never want to go back.

More than anything, though, I just never want to feel that low again. I want to be HERE, experiencing life, in all its beauty and all its messiness, for a really really long time. But I know now how thin that line is between having your whole future ahead of you, and not.

All it takes is one really bad morning.

Growing up, I constantly heard opinions about the way I look. When you’re a young girl and you’re tall, people are always telling you, “One day, you’re going to love it so much.” And I’d be like, When? WHEN??? I didn’t want to stand out. I just wanted to be like everybody else. I mean, it’s not like I was getting showered with all these compliments.… Kids can be very cruel, you know?

Before I ever picked up a ball, I was just a little kid following my dad around Europe, while he was playing basketball professionally. Since my dad worked a lot, it was usually just my mom, my siblings, Sienna and Dylan, and me. When we weren’t at school, we were at the beach, or out somewhere eating good food. I look back at photos sometimes, and I’m just kind of stunned that I had such a magical childhood, living in Spain and traveling to all these countries. My mom is the ultimate hostess, so I remember we’d always have people over to the house. We’d celebrate anything. It could be someone else’s birthday, and my mom would be like, “We have to do something!! We have to throw a party!!!” I always want people over all the time now, and I feel like I get that from her. 

When I was in third grade, we moved to Colorado, and it was kind of a culture shock. It’s funny, I grew up watching High School Musical, and that was like my favorite movie. And I remember going into my first day at my new school thinking, I wonder if it’s going to be like that…. Three seconds in, I’m like, Umm, where is the singing and dancing?? Troy and Gabriella? This is nothing like High School Musical!! Help!!!

I guess I’ve always been a lot taller than most of my classmates, but I don’t think I ever really cared that much until I got to the U.S. Kids at my new school were just way more comfortable saying something about it. 

“You must weigh a lot because you’re so tall.” 

“You’re super skinny.” 

I heard it all. I knew it was stupid. Like, How can I be skinny AND weigh a lot? But it didn’t have to make sense for it to hurt. I feel like boys are just really weird when they’re intimidated, so they would make fun of me a lot growing up.

My teacher at the time, Mr. Swanson, was also really tall, and he and I bonded over that. I was like, You get it. You understand what it’s like to be me. And on the one hand, that was a huge relief. But on the other hand, I was still a young girl becoming super aware of myself to a degree that was almost painful.

When I started playing basketball, that was super freeing. It became my happy place. For once, people weren’t just looking at me because I was tall. It was like, Well, she’s tall, AND she plays basketball, AND she’s the shit. In middle school, I was hiding all the time and trying to shrink myself. Basketball was a way for me to just stand out fully like, No, this is what I look like. This is what I do.

I remember I made my first USA Basketball team when I was 15, which was a huge deal. It was the first big thing that I ever achieved. I had done some camps before that — but it wasn’t the national team. I’d always had that on a pedestal in my mind like this Mt. Everest because some of the older girls I knew had tried out, but no one had ever made the team. When tryouts opened up, my AAU coach was like, “You need to go.” In my head I was like, Oh my God, I’m so scared! If I get cut, what does that mean?? Am I done???

During trials, there were more than a hundred girls inside the training facility, competing for 12 spots. It was crazy. There were so many of us, and every single day they’d have a sign taped outside the front door of the building. If your number was on there, you moved on. After the last round, one by one, you go into this little office, and inside are the team’s head coach and the director of USA Basketball. And they’re like, “You made it,” or “You didn’t make it.”And then you go straight to your dorm room, and either you’re packing your bags and getting ready to go home or you’re starting training camp right away. It is very intimidating.

When they told me I made it, I remember just being a MESS. I was crying so much because I was so happy. It was the most amazing feeling. And I remember my mom and me crying on FaceTime. I think she still has a screenshot of our call. There’s actually a video of her meeting me at the bottom of the stairs in the training center and us just hugging for so long because playing for USA Basketball is the biggest thing ever. It’s such an honor.

Before the camps, and the rankings, and the media attention, everything was just so simple. I started playing basketball because I wanted to make friends and hang out with my old soccer teammates when some of them joined the basketball team.

I never pictured that one day I’d be in Chile playing in the FIBA Americas U16 Championship. I’ll never forget, me and my teammates were in a restaurant one night, in Puerto Aysén, sitting around the dinner table talking. Then, while we were eating, the player rankings dropped. Everyone’s looking at their phones. And I remember getting up from the table, and one of the girls ran up to me like, “Hey, did you know that you were ranked first?” And I was like, “Umm, excuse me?” Like, “What are you talking about?” I didn’t even know what that meant. I texted my parents. And I’m like, “Hey, I don't know if you guys know anything about this, but I guess I’m ranked first….?” They’re like, “OK.”

It was kind of jarring, if I’m being honest. Looking back on it now, that changed everything. That’s when the pressure hit. That’s when I felt like I had to constantly prove to everyone that I deserved to be in that position. That’s when I was like, I made a name for myself. Now, I have to live up to it.

My mom stayed in LA for a whole week with me after I was released from the hospital. I took some time away from school and the team. That was what I needed. And yet, stepping away from basketball was extremely hard. I felt like I was letting my teammates down. I was so embarrassed and mad at myself. They lost a couple games during my absence, and I was like, My team really needs me right now. What am I doing? The whole time I was in the hospital, I was thinking about our group. What are they thinking about me? How are they going to react? I was just so ashamed.

When I came back, I remember they were practicing in Pauley that day, and my mom came with me. A part of me just wanted to walk in the gym like, “Hey everyone, I’m back!” And throw on a practice jersey and start warming up. But my mom and Cori encouraged me to address what happened and just speak from the heart. So in the film room, before practice started, I spoke to everyone. I said, “I just want you all to know.... I’ve been dealing with depression. This is what’s been going on in my head. And yeah... I love you guys so much. And I’m sorry that I had to leave.” Then I braced myself for their reactions. 

And of course, there was never anything to worry about. They were all like, “We’re so happy that you took care of yourself. You’re coming back even better. We love you.” 

In that moment, you could probably literally see the stress leaving my body. I remember half of the team was crying. They were all giving me hugs, and the coaches hugged me, too. I just hadn’t felt good about myself for so long, so that was like a release.

It’s no secret that I had a miserable freshman year at Stanford. I was not thriving, mentally or physically. My former teammates that I played with there are my sisters. I’m still connected to them to this day. But during that time, I was really suffering, and I felt like I had nowhere to turn. I had this mindset: If you’re not producing, you’re not worthy. 

I went to UCLA wanting to do everything that I didn’t get the chance to do at Stanford. I built up these unrealistic expectations like: I need to make up for the year that I pretty much lost, and I want to do this, this, this, and this. And I’m going to make it happen RIGHT now. And I think I started off so strong, in a way, that I almost forgot that who I was at Stanford was still in there. I was still battling all the negativity and the self-hatred that I had been feeling. I was still very fragile. Trying to balance the expectations that the people around me had for me, while still healing was extremely hard, and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bend. So I broke.

Being in that hospital was the worst experience of my life. And you don’t just get over that. It took a lot of time for me to sit with it, ground myself, and do a lot of work to really understand why I was feeling that way. But coming back and being embraced by my UCLA teammates and coaches, that was like a miracle. It was life-changing. Seeing that my coaches still had love for me, even though I hadn’t been playing basketball, that was really, really important to me. It was like an epiphany: These people love me for me, not because of what I produce on the court. They don’t care about how many points I’m scoring. They care about me because I’m Lauren, and I’m their friend.

I think the thing about depression that a lot of people don’t talk about is, it never really goes away. You can learn how to manage it really well and find ways to cope. You can take medication and pick up hobbies and work on your self-esteem. But it’s an illness — it’s not a choice that you make. So, there are days even now where I’m like, OK, I can feel it. I’m getting a little bit sad. And that’s OK.

When I look back on everything, I feel like my struggle with depression probably started when I was much younger and navigating being bullied all the time for how I looked. And I was just too young to really understand what those feelings were. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned how to identify it and figure out what my needs are at that particular moment. Like, What does Lauren need right now?

A big part of learning how to do that was starting therapy. I’ll be honest, it was really hard in the beginning. Before therapy, I had never felt comfortable talking to anyone other than my mom about really deep and personal things. With her it’s like, You’re my mom. I know you’re not going to judge me. That’s my safe space. And so, building that level of trust with a stranger took a lot of work. When I started, I had sessions almost every day, which I hated because I was like, I just don’t have anything interesting to talk about. But one thing I always tell people about therapy is, you shouldn’t just go when you’re having bad days. You have to make it a habit to check in with yourself and see how you’re doing. And now, my therapist — that’s my girl!!!! She’s just completely changed my perspective on mental health. I no longer feel embarrassed and ashamed about what I’m feeling.

I guess that’s why I wanted to write this. I want people to know that I’m doing better. But I also want to be very realistic. My mental health isn’t perfect. It’s an ongoing project. I was talking to my mom recently, and I told her, “I feel like I was put on this Earth to really help people. And I hope being so honest with who I am and what I’ve gone through changes lives.” Because the unspoken thing here is that my story could have ended a lot differently, and I know for so many others, their stories, tragically, do. I remind myself every single day that this is why I’m sharing my story. 

At the same time, though, I know that the whole point of life is much BIGGER and way more basic: just living it. Experiencing how much life there is outside of basketball. I mean, I get to live in LA. I have this gorgeous apartment that I don’t have to pay for. I have all these friends, and I get to go out with my girls whenever I want. I have a car that I get to drive with the windows down (because it’s always 70 degrees!!) blasting the radio and singing my favorite songs. I get to watch the sun set on the beach, or from my car, or from the training facility, and it will never ever get old, because I’m just grateful to be living my dream. I’m grateful to be surrounded by the people I love. I’m grateful to be alive.

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It’s pretty surreal to think college is coming to an end. I remember the seniors always telling me, “It’s going to fly by.” When I was at my lowest, I was like, Yes, please, this cannot end any sooner. And now I’m like, Wait, no, what’s going on?! I’m just trying to soak in all this amazing time that I have left. I’m staying present and letting the future unfold however it’s going to, without letting fear of the unknown get in the way of all these special moments. Which is new for me!!

Before the credits roll, I just want to say a big-hearted thank you to my teammates and coaches for being there for me when I needed it. This team is so amazing. Everyone on our squad is super selfless, on the court and off. And our coaches, they do such a good job of valuing the person first, and then the player. I think that’s why UCLA is so different from other programs. When everything was hitting rock bottom for me, they cared more about what I was going through in real life than me missing some games. I’m lucky to have such supportive coaches in my life. Shannon LeBeauf from Rutgers, she was here at UCLA as an assistant coach, and she’s basically been another mother figure to me. I mean, she’s just the most amazing human on Earth. And Dawn Staley, she spoke to my mom a little bit while everything was going on as well. And I don’t think a lot of people know that. She’s been really amazing to me and my family through my entire basketball career.

I also want to spotlight one of my first coaches that I ever had — my middle school coach Ervin Johnson. One time, he made me rip a piece of paper out of my notebook and write down all of the goals that I wanted for myself. And I jotted down some big dreams, things that felt really far off. Impossible, even. He took one look at my piece of paper and said, “Lauren, you’re going to get every single one of these done.” And I was like, What are you talking about? There’s no way. But I did — All-American, everything. I did it. Another time, in front of my entire school, he said, “Lauren, come here.” And he stood next to me and said, “This girl is going to be on national television. She’s going to be the best basketball player in the country.” And he said this in front of all these kids who had been tormenting me for the past three years. And I was like, I can't believe he just did that for me.

And funny enough, I did end up on national television. I had some struggles, but I survived. I finally got that giant weight off my shoulders that I carried for so long. Now, I’m playing free and with joy. No matter where I go from here, I know I’ve come a long way. 

And for that, I feel extremely brave.