“As many people unfortunately saw with the recent sexual abuse claims against Dr. Ron Kaminsky, gymnasts aren’t always safe. And as two former elite gymnasts ourselves, we know there are other issues out there that threaten the athletes’ well-being. Not every gymnast out there is struggling, but there are real challenges in this sport. I’m talking about eating disorders, depression, anxiety, emotionally abusive coaches, and yes, sexual abuse. There’s a serious lack of regulation from the sport’s governing body—the American Gymnastics Federation—and given our personal experiences, we know how challenging it can be to advocate for yourself to get the help and resources you need in order to thrive. That’s why we’re launching the Elite Gymnastics Foundation, an organization that offers mental health support for elite gymnasts.”

“That’s very admirable,” Cynthia says. “We’ve heard a lot about the allegations against Dr. Kaminsky—who, by the way, is set to face trial early next year.”

A chill runs through me. Delia, Skylar, and the other girls should have justice.

“While I’m saddened to hear of the mental health issues that plague top gymnasts, I’m also not exactly surprised,” Cynthia continues. “It seems like a particularly high-pressure sport—and who is looking out for these girls?”

“The sport’s toxic culture is a real problem,” I agree. “That’s why our first step was to create what we’re calling a wellness network for elite gymnasts. We’ve assembled an excellent team of professionals, including therapists and sexual assault educators, to provide top-notch care for these athletes. Gymnastics is a mind-body sport—gymnasts, mostly adolescents, train hours a day to keep their bodies strong, but it’s equally important for them to take care of their mental health, too.”

I pivot to the sales pitch. “This is important work, but it’s not easy, so we are raising money on EliteGymnasticsFoundation.com to fund these initiatives.”

I’m surprised at the steady way my words flow. It feels as if the lights and cameras and unnatural stage makeup fade away, and all I need to do is explain why I’m here.

“Avery, for you, this is personal, isn’t it?” Cynthia asks.

I knew this question was coming. It was part of our pitch to the network—a good sob story will catch people’s attention more than anything else we could say. Neither of us is ready to talk publicly about Dimitri yet, but there’s still plenty I can say.

“It is,” I confirm. “I suffered a knee injury during the Olympic Trials in 2012. Physically, I was able to bounce back after a few months, but I was depressed. I didn’t seek out help, but I should have. This organization would ensure that nobody feels alone. Gymnastics is a solo sport, but that doesn’t mean you’re on your own.”