Backstory

by Avani Gregg

  As a kid, I was a very active tomboy who would tumble, stand on my head, and do gymnastics all over the house. You could not convince me that a couch was made for sitting—it was my private indoor trampoline. The specific deets may be fuzzy, but I remember having a whole lotta energy and needing to let it out. Gymnastics was a great outlet (more on that later). At the same time, I could be a quiet loner with a big imagination. I liked to draw and color, make all kinds of craft projects, and just be in my own little world. I was a middle kid, but I never fought with my sisters over toys or games—they could keep ’em. I was never very attached to dolls, stuffed animals, or any of the things girls my age begged for. However, I do remember watching Dora and Blue’s Clues and being slightly obsessed with The Wiggles—they were my very first concert. They danced around with a big dinosaur and a pirate. Today, it would probably give me nightmares, but at the time, I was extremely into it. Do not hold it against me.

  Our home was a ranch-style house with three bedrooms, a huge backyard, and a swing set. Once I was out of the crib, Shanti and I shared a bedroom. Our neighborhood was surrounded by stores and a movie theater. When we were older, we would ride our bikes over to the video store to rent movies. Shanti’s first gymnastics gym was just down the street. Basically, I wanted to do whatever she did, so I started imitating any moves she was learning. One day, my parents were watching Shanti flip around the living room and, out of nowhere, I did one perfectly clean, one-handed cartwheel after another. No one had ever taught me; it just came naturally. My parents stared in disbelief. “In that moment, we realized you had a gift,” my dad explains, “and we knew we had to help you explore it.”

  That week, they took me to Dana Mannix Gymnastics in Indianapolis, where they had all these little tumble mats, rope ladders, and trampolines—all the basic stuff. I had fun, but it was way too easy. After just one session, the instructor came over and said, “You need to take her to DeVeau’s School of Gymnastics.” I think my mom and dad were a little shocked. DeVeau’s was a hard-core, high-competition gym that had trained several girls for the Olympics. But I was ready and willing to show them what I could do. Tumbling was baby stuff; I wanted to fly.

  We needed to have an appointment at DeVeau’s for me to even try out, and there was a waiting list. But, finally, they told me to come in. My parents sat on the sidelines, not expecting much. I was four years old, had never trained before, and this all seemed out of my league. “Voni, don’t be afraid when you go out there,” my dad said. “Do the best that you can and have fun!” I guess after going through all the tests, I wowed them. Coach Kim came over: “She’s amazing. She’s on the team.” Just like that, my gymnastics journey began.

  At first, I went to practice for an hour a day, then two to three hours, and eventually four hours. Once I got into the higher levels, I spent twenty-two hours a week at the gym Monday through Saturday. In third grade, we moved into a larger, two-story house with a full basement, four bedrooms, plus a huge bonus room. At first, I plastered my room with One Direction posters, followed by pics of Twenty One Pilots. As I began to accumulate gymnastics trophies, we put them on display. I had too many medals to count, so those all got boxed up for safekeeping.

  DeVeau’s was about an hour away from our new home, depending on traffic. It didn’t seem like a burden at the time—at least not to me, but I wasn’t the one driving! My practice just became part of our daily routine as a family, and we worked around it. As I made my way up the levels, there was always something new to master: an extra twist, a flip, or a new move. Then it had to be cleaned and sharpened. I loved it, but I was also never satisfied. Maybe that’s what kept me pushing on—the need to do better and be the best.

  Yes, the coaches were demanding and expected us to pull our weight as a team, but a lot of my competitive drive came from within. I had a personal best that I demanded of myself in every skill. The only thing I hated was beam, probably because it’s all about balance, which is not something I naturally possess. I’m not really into taking cautious steps, one foot in front of the other. Beam also requires walking a straight, narrow line, which is something that goes against every fiber of my being. But my coaches refused to let me check out: “If you fall in a competition, you’re going to have to get up and finish or you’re just going to look dumb in front of everyone.” Way to instill confidence in a kid, right? I would always get hurt on beam, but I would also always get back up and keep going. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was teaching me an important life lesson about resilience, which would come in handy when I had to switch gears in my career down the line. Isn’t it funny how the stuff we go through when we’re young gives us the tools we need to deal with life’s ups and downs when we’re older? Good thing I paid attention.

  Still, I was never a big fan of school—many people don’t know this about me, but I was in high honors classes (yes, I took AP classes, too). Those of you who are in honors classes know the extra stress and pressure that it can bring into your normal, everyday life. Not only that, I also have a tough time sitting for long periods of time (like, anything longer than ten minutes, unless it’s a really, really good movie!) and listening to someone go on and on about a subject. I think my best “education” came from my experiences in the gym. That’s where I learned the most about myself and what I am capable of if I let go of fear. Basically, there’s no room for being afraid in gymnastics. You either go for it or you go home. Little kids especially have no fear. Watch a five-year-old learn to do a backflip and you’ll see what I mean. They throw themselves into it because they have no reason to believe they can’t execute it perfectly. They take death-defying leaps without hesitation and tackle life without any limits. When you’re older, you lose that spirit and start to ask “Why?” instead of “Why not?” I used to be fearless. I remember it well, but somewhere along the way, I lost it. I guess life just got real, and little kids make their own reality.

  The more time I spent at the gym, the harder it was for me to just be a normal kid. No one at my school really understood why I always had to miss parties or playdates; they didn’t get why I wanted to spend every waking minute training. Family and friends questioned if my parents were pushing me too much and if all this was “good for me.” Let’s be clear: I was the one pushing. The gymnastics season started in October when the weather began to get cooler, which meant it conflicted with school. I begged my parents to let me enroll in online classes so I could focus on what I loved, but they worried I was putting all my eggs in one basket. What if I suddenly decided gymnastics wasn’t fun anymore? I couldn’t just give up on school; I had to have a backup plan. Before I started online schooling, I stuck it out as long as I could, which meant constantly fighting with my teachers. They wanted me to take gym class, which my parents thought was ridiculous since I was getting plenty of exercise. And we pleaded with my teachers not to penalize me for missing so many days to attend practice and meets. However, according to my school, gymnastics was a “hobby,” an extracurricular that shouldn’t interfere with my education.

  I didn’t care what people thought. I loved hitting the road for meets. There were times when we would have to leave our home at four a.m. to drive to a competition that was four hours away. When it was over in the early evening, we’d turn around and drive back home, and I would get up for school the next day, barely able to keep my eyes open in class. Other times, we would fly to a big away meet with teams from other states and districts. That was the best because it involved staying in a hotel and “escaping” my day-to-day life. One of my favorite things was when I reached level 7 and I got to choose my own music for my floor routine. I was very dedicated to mixing mine. My mom and I worked hard on finding something unique because I wanted to be different. I didn’t want to have the same music as anyone else. When my music came on, it was stuff that no one had heard before. It had to be instrumental, so I would find slow and fast pieces and mix them together to form a whole new sound. It may have confused some of the aud
ience and more than a few judges. I loved commanding their attention. I admire Olympic gymnasts like Laurie Hernandez and Gabby Douglas, and American Cup winner Katelyn Ohashi. I am in awe of not just their athleticism, but their artistry. They were each so unique in how they embraced the sport. Fun fact: a few years down the road, Katelyn actually DM’d me to say she was fan of mine on TikTok! I was like, “You are a fan of me? You’re a collegiate world record holder! I am shook!”

  Seeing how other young gymnasts were shaking things up also empowered me. Besides changing the soundtrack, I wanted to stand out with my style. I never did basic hair, either: I’d put in a bunch of colorful rubber bands and spray glitter all over my head. I guess I’ve always pushed the boundaries. After all, the thing I hate most is being boring. In the world of gymnastics, that can work for you or against you. Sometimes I got hated on for my uniqueness—gymnasts, moms, and coaches just didn’t understand me. But I would never worry what people thought about me. If they’re talking about you, you’re doing something right.

  I have been marching to my own beat since the day I was old enough to take my first steps. Maybe if I had tried harder to fit in, I would have had it easier, but if you haven’t figured it out by now, I don’t do “easy.” If something is difficult or if someone says it can’t be done, it’s Code Avani for “Just do it.” That kind of determination can get you far, but it can also get you in trouble. For the longest time I thought I was unstoppable. I thought nothing could break me or shake me. But the fact is, you can’t stay a little kid forever. At some point in your life, you have to accept your weaknesses and admit you’re vulnerable. Even Superman’s got his kryptonite, right? In my case, my weaknesses were both physical and mental, and I stubbornly refused to let them stop me—until they did just that.

  Run It Back: Is Stubbornness a Good Thing?

  Stubbornness doesn’t have the best rep, especially when you’re a woman, but it can serve you well. I’m not telling you to tune out everyone’s opinion but your own—no one can be right 100 percent of the time. But I have found plenty of instances where being strongheaded worked for me. When, you ask? Let me spell it out for you:

  When you need to make a decision. Sticking to your guns gives you an edge. It allows you to trust your gut. When others might waver, you know where you stand.

  When someone is trying to steal your thunder, especially in competition. In gymnastics, I stubbornly refused to lose. Winners are often stubborn because they won’t give in or give up until they get what they want.

  When someone asks you to settle. I am never satisfied with second best. If your stubbornness propels you to get better results—to want better things for yourself and the world in general—I say go for it.

  When the crowd says, “Follow us.” Stubborn peeps can resist mob mentality. They possess inner strength to combat being pushed. Instead, they push back… hard.

  When something isn’t working. Stubborn people will ask, “Is there a better way to approach this?” They question how something is done, maybe because it’s not how they would do it. Yeah, it may be a little self-indulgent, but it can also lead to exciting and creative solutions. All those guys who invented stuff like light bulbs, the internet, and Frappuccinos? I’m sure they were stubborn as mules. I owe ya.

  On Avani

  My big sis, Shanti Gregg, says:

  Avani is beautiful inside and out. She is known for putting others first, and she has been that way since a young age. She takes care of her family and her friends 24/7. She is outgoing, strong, and ambitious, and strives to be better every single day.

  We both love to be on social media and go out together. Our younger sister, Priya, doesn’t really care for either, so whenever I want to go somewhere or take pictures, Avani is my go-to girl. We both really love to shop, as well. Avani tends to be shy off social media, but she can also be strongheaded and very funny. There is a lot I love about Avani, but my favorite thing is her personality. She makes everyone in the room laugh, and that’s when I know she is being her true self. Avani has always made my sad days into happy ones. That said, the one thing that absolutely drives me crazy is that she can’t take someone repeating a question. I will ask her if she wants food. She will say yes but not give me any specifics. I will ask her what she wants, and she will get mad: “Why are you asking me another question?!” It’s pretty hilarious, and of course I have to keep asking just to irritate her more.

  Voni has always been unique and special in my eyes. She has incredible talent when it comes to makeup. She has been doing it since she was in middle school and she has always been passionate about it. I remember her coming home after four-hour gymnastics practices and doing full makeup looks on school nights just to make a few Musical.lys. She has so much self-determined drive, and I admire it. In high school, even when Avani was focused on school and gymnastics, the one thing you could always rely on was Avani making content every single day, no matter how hard it was.

  Of course, this didn’t completely rule out time for going to concerts. I remember when we went to see Harry Styles, I was wearing a black crop top with high-waisted black jeans. We had another spectator take our picture together. When we looked at the shot, we saw that the whole side of my stomach was out of my jeans. We literally cry-laughed about it for at least twenty minutes. To this very day I can show her that picture when she’s having a rough day and it will make her crack up.

  Avani is also beyond generous. I can’t even count all the nice things she’s done for me. She bought me my dream purse and took me as her plus-one to Milan. We sat in the front row for the Dolce & Gabbana fashion show, and our entire time in Italy felt like a fever dream because it was so magical. She could have taken anyone else, but Avani chose me because she knew I love fashion and traveling.

  The past two years have been life-changing for Avani. She has been doing so many big things, and I am incredibly proud of her. There will always be highs and lows when it comes to social media; I’ve seen Avani thriving and I’ve seen her in super-depressive states. No one would have ever thought we would be put into this situation, but she’s living her best life and doing what she loves. That is a blessing not just to her, but to our entire family.

  chapter three Did a Full 180

  Growing up, it was always my dream to one day go to the Olympics. I’d been taking gymnastics classes and competing in this sport since I was four years old. This was my ultimate end goal. I was going to stand on that podium, wave to the crowd, and accept my gold medal for the U.S. It was more than a dream; I could see it so clearly. I also imagined myself being recruited by a top collegiate team and making my mark there. Maybe UCLA, where Katelyn Ohashi had competed? That had a nice ring to it. I had plans, big plans, bruh! I was sixteen, a training level 10 gymnast, and well on my way to achieving everything I wanted. But that’s exactly when life sneaks up on you and says, “Oh yeah? Think again.” That’s what happened to me in 2018, and for a while I was in total denial. It’s probably the reason why I kept going, injuring myself more and more, to the point where I could no longer compete. When that happened, it was like the walls came crashing down around me. Without gymnastics, I didn’t know who I was, much less who I could be.

  It started with a stress fracture in my back. As a gymnast, I was used to bumps, bruises, sprains, and achy joints, but this pain was something I had never felt before. It was sharp, piercing, and persistent. I couldn’t stand up completely straight without having tears roll down my face. It took months for me to accept that it was much worse than we thought—it was career ending. But it took a long time for me to even slow down. My broken back has its own backstory. What you should know is that I gave it all I had. I gave it a fight to the finish. I’m not sure if that helped or hurt the situation. I only know how it ended—not well.

  Since I promised to be 100 percent honest with you in this book, let me confess that writing about this wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. I figured I would be over it by now and it would feel like
some distant memory. But when I actually sat down to revisit the experience, and I had to play back all those details in my head, I realized my back may not hurt anymore but my heart does. It’s all still a little raw. I hope that will eventually fade with time, but I’m going to lay it all out for you now.

  In 2011, we moved so my parents could be closer to their families. We had been living in Fishers because Dad was in the fire department there, and when he resigned, there was really no reason to stay in that area. Because of the move, I had to leave my former gym, DeVeau’s School of Gymnastics, and start up at a new gym. I didn’t stay at this new place for very long; let’s just say that their training regimen wasn’t for me. One day, while heading to practice, I told my dad I didn’t want to do gymnastics anymore if I had to stay there. So he made me go inside and tell the head coach that I was quitting. My parents would never let my sisters and me start something and not see it to the end.

  After I quit gymnastics, my parents insisted I find another sport, so I joined the local soccer team. I made it through one season and I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t competitive enough for me. Only a handful of kids took it seriously at that beginning age. After that, I had some time off, but not for long. I really missed gymnastics and wanted to go back, so my parents found Sharp’s Gymnastics Academy in Indianapolis. Sharp’s became not only my gym, but also my second home. In August 2015, I got called into the guidance counselor’s office during class. “Avani, I have some bad news…” The guidance counselor told me that the owner and head coach at Sharp’s had been arrested for four counts of child molestation and three counts of sexual misconduct with a minor. My mom had called the school and asked the guidance counselor to tell me the breaking news before another student did. I was stunned and crying so hard I had to go home. Thank God nothing had happened to me at Sharp’s, but I felt so bad for the person who had come forward. I also knew what it meant: my mom pulled me out of Sharp’s that very day and enrolled me at Interactive Academy in Zionsville, thirty minutes away from home.