Returning to Virginia Tech: Finding Purpose After a Public Setback

In April, I arrived at Virginia Tech carrying an American flag beneath my parachute. That demonstration ended with me suspended from the Jumbotron at Lane Stadium.

Months later, I returned for a different reason: to speak with several hundred student athletes, coaches, and staff about mental health, adversity, and finding strength when life doesn’t go according to plan.

The place where I experienced a very public setback became a place where I could connect with people through it.

Seeing what held me

During my return, Richie shared photographs from the incident. He was the person who climbed inside the structure and stayed with me until I was rescued.

The photographs showed the violence of the impact. They also showed how little fabric was holding me there. Just a few strands caught on the letter H.

Seeing those images gave me another perspective on what had happened. It is one thing to remember an experience from inside it. It is another to see how close the outcome may have been to something very different.

For me, those few strands carried a sense of divine presence. I also felt deep gratitude for the people who responded, for Richie staying with me, and for the opportunity to return.

I was still here. And I had an opportunity to do something meaningful with that.

What happens after everyone sees your worst moment?

Most people will never find themselves hanging from a stadium Jumbotron. But the questions that follow a public setback are familiar to many of us.

What will people think of me? Will this become the thing they remember? How do I move forward when I cannot undo what happened?

For student athletes, those questions can follow a mistake in competition, an injury, or a season that ends differently than expected. For someone else, they may follow a career setback or a personal struggle that becomes visible to others.

The circumstances differ. The challenge of separating our worth from a difficult moment connects us.

That was part of what I wanted to bring to the conversations at Virginia Tech. My experiences have taught me that accomplishments do not make us immune to struggle. We can perform, achieve, and appear strong while neglecting what is happening within us.

I know that from my own mental health journey.

Taking responsibility for the next step

One of the most important lessons in my life has been learning to take responsibility for my wellbeing.

That means being willing to look honestly at myself. It means asking for help, participating in therapy, reflecting on my choices, and putting what I learn into practice.

It also means recognizing the limits of what I can control.

I cannot change the parachuting incident. I cannot control every opinion about it. I can take responsibility for how I respond, how I care for myself, and how I use the opportunity in front of me.

That work continues long after the attention moves elsewhere.

Facing what happened took strength I had to find one day at a time. The weeks and months afterward mattered just as much as the moment people saw.

Using the attention for something that matters

The incident brought attention I never anticipated. Returning to Virginia Tech gave me an opportunity to use that attention to talk about something I care deeply about: breaking the stigma around mental health.

I want people to feel able to acknowledge when they are struggling. To care for themselves before they reach a breaking point. To understand that asking for support can be an act of responsibility.

Sharing my story does not mean I have everything figured out. It means I am willing to speak honestly about what I have experienced and what I continue to learn.

My hope is that honesty makes it a little easier for someone else to begin their own conversation.

I left Virginia Tech grateful for the students, coaches, and staff who made room for these discussions. Grateful for Richie and the people who helped me. Grateful for the strength I found in the months that followed.

And grateful that one of the hardest experiences of my life could become a conversation that may help someone else face theirs.

What difficult moment are you still allowing to define you? What might your next step look like if it didn’t have the final word?