It's justified to take care of yourself first
When Simone Biles stepped away from the Tokyo Olympics in July 2021, she did more than withdraw from a competition — she quietly rewrote what courage looks like in elite sport. For athletes like sprinter Jasmine Blocker, already submerged in pandemic-born depression and panic, Biles' public act of self-preservation became a kind of permission slip: to stop, to seek help, and to believe that the mind deserves the same care as the body. The ripple of that single decision continues to reach people Biles has never met, reshaping what it means to be both strong and human.
- Jasmine Blocker, a world championship gold medalist, was quietly unraveling — panic attacks and depression had made training feel impossible and recovery feel unimaginable.
- When Biles withdrew from Tokyo citing mental health, the sports world fractured between criticism and support, leaving athletes like Blocker watching closely from the margins.
- For Blocker, Biles' words cut through the noise: hearing the world's greatest gymnast say 'my head's not right' made her own suffering feel real, valid, and worth treating.
- Blocker enrolled in a Partial Hospitalization Program — a significant step away from the track — and began the structured work of addressing what no training regimen could fix.
- Her recovery, now well underway, traces its turning point not to a coach or a clinic, but to a televised moment of vulnerability from an athlete who chose herself first.
Jasmine Blocker, a 29-year-old sprinter and 2019 world championship gold medalist, spent the pandemic years in a darkness that had little to do with lockdowns and everything to do with what the isolation uncovered. Panic attacks and depression had taken hold, making it difficult to train, to think clearly, or to believe that healing was within reach.
Then came July 2021, and Simone Biles' withdrawal from the Tokyo Olympics. The decision divided opinion across the sports world, but for Blocker it did something quieter and more profound — it gave her permission to name what she was going through. Hearing one of the greatest athletes alive say that her mental state made it unsafe to compete reframed everything. It wasn't weakness. It was honesty. It was a line being drawn.
Blocker enrolled in a Partial Hospitalization Program, stepping away from the sport she had built her life around in order to address what was actually broken. It was a hard choice, but the right one — and she credits Biles directly with making it possible to choose it.
Biles never knew Blocker's name. She didn't need to. Her vulnerability traveled on its own, landing in the lives of athletes who saw it and found their own path toward healing. Her legacy, it turns out, is not only measured in medals — it lives in the quiet recoveries of people she will never meet.
Jasmine Blocker was drowning. The 29-year-old sprinter, a gold medalist from the 2019 world championships, had spent the pandemic years in isolation like everyone else. But for her, the lockdown became something darker—a breeding ground for panic attacks and depression that left her feeling trapped inside her own body. She was struggling to train, struggling to think clearly, struggling to believe that getting better was even possible.
Then Simone Biles withdrew from the Tokyo Olympics.
It was July 2021 when the most decorated American gymnast in history stepped back from competition, citing mental health concerns. The decision sent shockwaves through the sports world. Some criticized her. Others questioned whether an athlete at her level could really be struggling that much. But for Blocker, watching Biles speak openly about her mental state did something unexpected: it gave her permission.
"It's justified to say, 'It's not safe for me to do it because my head's not right,'" Blocker would later reflect on what Biles' withdrawal meant to her. "It's justified to say, 'I have to take care of myself first so that I can be there for others.'" Those words, spoken by one of the greatest athletes alive, landed differently than they might have coming from anyone else. Biles wasn't making excuses. She was drawing a line. She was saying that your mind matters more than your medals.
Blocker made a decision. She enrolled herself in a Partial Hospitalization Program, a structured treatment regimen that would pull her away from the track for a time. It was a hard choice—stepping back from the sport she'd devoted her life to. But she knew it was right. The program gave her the tools and the space to address what was actually broken, rather than trying to run through it.
What Biles had done, without ever knowing Blocker's name or story, was normalize something that elite athletes are rarely supposed to admit: that sometimes the bravest thing you can do is stop. That mental health isn't a weakness to hide but a reality to face. That taking care of yourself isn't selfish—it's foundational.
Today, Blocker credits Biles directly with her recovery. She's made substantial progress through treatment, and she's clear about where that progress began: not with a coach or a training plan, but with watching another athlete choose herself. Biles' legacy, it turns out, extends far beyond the medals she's won or the records she's set. It lives in the lives of people she's never met, people who saw her vulnerability and found their own way toward healing.
Citações Notáveis
It's justified to say, 'It's not safe for me to do it because my head's not right.' It's justified to say, 'I have to take care of myself first so that I can be there for others.'— Jasmine Blocker, reflecting on Simone Biles' withdrawal
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
What was it about Biles' withdrawal specifically that changed things for Blocker? She could have read about mental health in a hundred other places.
Because Biles was at the absolute top. She had everything to lose—the Olympics, the spotlight, the legacy. And she walked away anyway. That's not a whisper about mental health. That's a roar.
Did Blocker try to get help before that moment?
She was struggling, but she hadn't taken the step. She was still in that place where you think you should be able to push through, that admitting you need help means you're weak. Biles showed her it means the opposite.
How long was she in the program?
The source doesn't specify the duration, but it was long enough that she had to step away from training entirely. That's a real sacrifice for a competitive athlete.
Do they stay in touch, Blocker and Biles?
There's no indication they do. That's almost the point—Biles changed Blocker's life without knowing it. She was just being honest about her own struggle.
What happens to Blocker now?
She's made substantial progress. She's still an athlete, but now she's one who knows when to stop running and start healing.