Sunday, July 6
There’s been a visible shift in professional sports—particularly among young players. The silence that once surrounded mental health has begun to break, replaced by a new kind of honesty. Players are speaking openly about anxiety, burnout, and the invisible weight of performance. And, perhaps for the first time, fans are listening not with criticism, but with empathy. This cultural change is more than welcome. It’s necessary. It’s long overdue.
Athletes have spent decades pushing past pain, hiding symptoms, and pretending everything was fine—even when it wasn’t. The consequences have been devastating. We now understand the importance of protecting mental health. Not just as a moral imperative, but as a performance requirement.
But like any cultural shift, the pendulum can swing too far.
There’s an uncomfortable question rising beneath the surface, one we’re hesitant to ask: Is it possible to become too protective of our mental health? Could the desire to avoid discomfort end up robbing us of the very growth we seek? Are we, in some cases, mistaking discomfort for danger—and retreating when we should be rising?
Tennis, at its core, is a psychological battle disguised as a physical contest. We have all heard one person say “To become a pro you need mental toughness” Tennis is a sport of margins. Roger Federer became the world’s best because he won 51% of the points he has played in his career. He was 1% better than his competitors. Like Federer, the best have the ability to remain composed under pressure. You need to think clearly when your legs are tired, your heart is racing, and the crowd is shifting. You need to stay composed when the match isn’t going your way. You need to keep believing in yourself when doubt creeps in, when the scoreboard works against you, when winning feels distant. Mental clarity is fundamental. It is not the absence of stress that defines elite performance but the ability to think precisely within it.
There is a growing misconception that protecting your mental health means avoiding anything uncomfortable. That struggle itself is a threat to wellness. And that if something feels hard, it must be harmful. This is a dangerous oversimplification. It creates a false binary. In truth, mental health and mental strength are not at odds. They are deeply interconnected. Protecting one does not require sacrificing the other.
We often compare mental strength to building muscle—and for good reason. Growth comes from resistance. Strength is forged through stress. But, just like with the body, pushing too far without rest can lead to injury. The key lies in discernment. Mental health requires space to breathe. Mental strength requires the will to press on.
Understanding your limits is essential—but so is recognizing when those limits are beginning to shift. The line between exhaustion and expansion is subtle, often discovered only through experience. Personally, I’ve learned to recognize the subtle signals my mind sends when it’s time to prioritize recovery—when I find myself wanting to emotionally avoid an insecurity or wrestling with feelings of “I’m not good enough.” These moments call for compassion and rest. Conversely, I know it’s time to build mental strength when I catch myself crafting excuses—justifications to skip practice or avoid discomfort. That’s when pushing through becomes essential, when resilience is forged by showing up despite doubt. This balance is not just the responsibility of the player. It belongs, in part, to the coach—to help the athlete distinguish between true burnout and a challenging day. To know when a break is necessary, and when pushing through is what builds resilience.
The modern athlete doesn’t have to choose between mental health and mental strength. The two aren’t enemies. They’re allies. Protecting your mind and building your resilience are part of the same process. Each informs the other. The real skill—the one few talk about—is learning to recognize which moment you're in: the one that calls for rest, or the one that demands resolve.
The discernment is where true greatness lies.
Written By Janine Michel
