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Strength through Struggle

A Tackle Your Feelings Story by Kathy Baker, Ireland 7s

When I first tore my ACL a few years ago, I had no idea how deeply it would affect me. It wasn’t just my rugby career that took a hit because the injury spilled into other areas of my life. The rehab was long, painful, and isolating. The whole process wore me down physically and, even more so, mentally.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped enjoying rugby. More worryingly, I stopped enjoying life. I found myself in a very dark place and I can clearly remember a time when I didn’t want to be here anymore. That’s incredibly hard to admit – and even harder to write – but it was my reality.

Things started to change when I began to open up. The floodgates didn’t open all at once but little by little I became more comfortable sharing how I was feeling with the people closest to me. With every single conversation it felt like a little more weight was taken off my shoulders. And with that relief came the realisation that I needed to prioritise my mental health.

Better awareness of my mental wellbeing is a big reason why the Tackle Your Feelings (TYF) campaign means so much to me. Having been through my own struggles, it feels like a privilege to speak from the other side. This campaign has the power to make a real difference, and if sharing my story helps even one person feel less alone, it’s all worth it.

That understanding of myself was really put to the test when I tore my ACL for a second time. The fact that it occurred in the months leading up to the Olympic Games really compounded things. It was a brutal blow for several reasons. All of a sudden the opportunity to go to the Olympics seemed to be taken from me, which was a bitter pill to swallow. What made it worse was that I knew what the road to recovery looked like. And that terrified me.

Thankfully, from the moment it happened, I was surrounded by an incredible support system. Even when the future looked really bleak, my friends and family found words and ways to give me hope. Instead of giving up on my Olympic dream, their belief in me helped to fuel my determination to explore every possible avenue to make it to Paris 2024.

When I think back on that journey, I think of Ed Mias. Ed was my physio, but he became so much more than someone with responsibility for my rehab. He became, and continues to be, a true friend. Together we made a commitment to work hard, to be brave, and to be smart. I really felt like we were on this road together.

Still, some days were really tough. But Ed never let me sink. He reminded me of my goal and nudged me a little forward, day after day. When things didn’t seem to be happening for me, Ed had a great ability to make me laugh. In hindsight, that entire experience – as painful as it was – was also incredibly enriching. It taught me about resilience. It taught me about myself, and the importance of my people. Oddly enough, I wouldn’t change it.

Outside of rugby, I’ve always found peace in the simple things. I take my rugby very seriously but I have never been one to be totally consumed by it. So, during my recovery I already had a number of outlets to turn to. I grew up in an outdoorsy family, I love being surrounded by animals and I’m also quite creative. During one of my injuries I took up crochet and it turned out to be a great way to learn that I could express myself in different ways.

Almost without realising it, I was looking after myself and recognised that proactive wellbeing management is essential for me. It took time to figure out what works, but now I make sleep and nutrition a priority, especially during stressful periods. When those slip, everything seems a little bit harder.

And while asking for help was the toughest step, once I did, things began to shift. It started with telling just one person I trusted. That led to real support and, ultimately, to hope.

I suppose that’s what TYF is really about: hope, support, and the reminder that you’re not alone. I wish something like this had existed when I was younger. So much goes on in school, and often it feels like no one has time to notice how you’re really doing. Campaigns like TYF show young people that everyone has their challenges and that it’s okay to talk about them.

Through my involvement with TYF, I’ve learned to be more open to having the kind of conversations I might once have avoided, especially at home. I used to dodge anything that felt uncomfortable, but now my family and friends better understand how I cope. We’re a tight-knit group, and opening up has made us even closer.

One of the most rewarding parts of this journey has been leading transition workshops for athletes and staff at Special Olympics Ireland. In talking through my own Olympic experience, I realised that my biggest learning came in the months that followed the Games. I went from the lowest of lows to making Team Ireland and scaling the heights of elite sport on the world stage — but afterwards, I was left with an unexpected sense of loss and a lingering question: What now?

Talking about that post-Olympic reality has been both cathartic and eye-opening. The most powerful moments in those workshops come not from the achievements, but from the honest conversations about uncertainty, identity, and moving forward. The openness and connection was really special.

I think sport has an amazing ability to connect people, and therefore it is a great vehicle to support mental health initiatives. I consider my teammates to be a second family. Through the sharing of commons interests, experiences and goals we keep growing closer and my eyes have been opened to the fact that everyone needs a bit of help from time to time. It’s inspiring to see rugby become a platform for honest conversations and wellbeing strategies.

I hope that by continuing to be part of this campaign, we can make a real impact on mental health and wellbeing in the young people of Ireland, and beyond.