Simply Verona: Breaking All the Rules

By Verona van de Leur

At the tender age of 15, Verona van de Leur took the gymnastics world by storm to become the greatest gymnast the Netherlands had ever produced. Her remarkable talent brought her gold medals, money, and fame. Although she seemed like a young woman on top of the world, Verona's life soon spun out of control. Abused and exploited by those closest to her, when her gymnastics career came to an end, Verona suddenly lost everything that she had worked so hard to achieve.

Living on the streets of Holland, the one-time world champion gymnast was homeless, penniless, living out of her car, arrested and jailed, and contemplating taking her own life. But from the depths of her despair, Verona emerged to rediscover herself and to become a successful, albeit controversial, entrepreneur. She returned to gymnastics, entered the world of adult entertainment and modeling, and went on to start successful business ventures that ultimately turned her life around.

Now, for the first time, the controversial international gymnastics star, Verona van de Leur, tells her true story to the world in this no holds barred autobiography.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Prende Publishing
• Release date: Apr 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781592110667

Book preview

Introduction

Saturday, November 23, 2002...

As I walked through the streets of downtown Debrecen, together with my teammates and the team doctor, looking through the stores in search of some souvenirs for family and friends back home in the Netherlands, I enjoyed a rare moment of relaxation amidst all the hard work, stressful training sessions, and competitions. We were there in Hungary not for a vacation, but to compete in the World Artistic Gymnastics Championships. Four girls, ages 16 and 17, away from home for two weeks to qualify for the finals in hopes of winning some medals. We all had individual qualifying competitions that week on our favorite apparatuses, but not many of us on the team reached the final 8.

Tomorrow would be Sunday, and although I hadn’t performed as I would have liked on the other three apparatuses, I was the only one on our team still in the competition, with a final on the floor exercise. It seemed strange because all of my teammates were finished with the competition, except for me. You could sense that, after two very intense weeks, they no longer felt any pressure – no more training, they could eat normally again, and even go to bed a little later than usual. I, on the other hand, still felt enormous pressure from my head coach, Frank Louter, from my parents, my fans, and the Dutch Gymnastics Federation (which had high expectations for these Worlds and now hoped to take home at least one medal for the Netherlands), as I was their only gymnast still competing, their last hope for success.

I tried not to think too much about the final routine for the following day, but in my mind, I knew there was a chance for me to win a medal (and that, of course, would be a dream come true). My toughest competition in this floor final was little Elena Gomez from Spain. She was a great gymnast, with excellent tumbling skills and unique choreography. But one could not forget all the other capable gymnasts from the United States, Romania, Brazil, Russia, Mexico, and Uzbekistan also in the final. The chance to win a medal almost seemed like the luck of the draw. Even though you may have qualified first during the week, it did not count in the finals. All 8 gymnasts now started on even footing.

After we returned to the hotel from our one-hour shopping trip in the center of the city, my coach Frank, who was not only my personal coach but also the head coach of the Dutch National Gymnastics Team, called me over for a serious talk about tomorrow’s competition. It started like a normal conversation, which normal between Frank and I always meant a great deal of tension in the air. We often had such talks at competitions, to keep focused through to the final day. That is an even harder task when all the others are finished and you have to train alone and to compete by yourself. But that wasn’t the only thing he wanted to talk to me about.

Frank said, I have some big news, are you ready for it? I grew even more nervous. What could it be? I had no idea what he would say, but I said, yes, tell me.

Your parents and your sister are now on their way to Debrecen to see you in the final tomorrow, he informed me. Stunned at this news, I was quiet for a minute. I didn’t know if I should be happy or nervous, so many feelings overcame me at that moment! To have my family there was nice, but it also put even more stress on me, to fulfill their expectations.

After I sat silent for a moment, Frank asked me, what do you think?

I’m so happy for them, I replied, but how is this possible?

I knew my parents couldn’t afford such a trip, they never came to see me when a competition was outside the Netherlands, so that was the first thought that entered my mind. Frank told me that my sponsor, Univé, had paid for their trip, the hotel, everything. As soon as they learned that I had qualified for the final 8 on the floor exercise, they contacted my parents. I almost started to cry, but I broke out a big smile instead.

It was funny because before I left the airport in Amsterdam, I told my parents that I would record the flight on the airplane for them. At that time, they were in their forties and had never flown in their lives, and they always asked me if it’s fun, or how it feels, or how do the clouds look from up above. So that was the promise I made to them. And now they were flying themselves! I was so very happy for them, that they could experience something new, but at the same time, I now felt even more pressure! If I didn’t win a medal, I’d let everyone down, most of all my sponsor, who had done so much for both me and my family. Frank tried to calm me down. He told me that I needed to go to bed early, warm-up in the morning, and just go to the competition and see what happens.

The next morning, after I received good luck wishes from my teammates, who tried to encourage me, I left for the arena. I was even more nervous than usual, but, at the same time, I knew my routines inside and out. The hard thing for me though was that you cannot warm-up at the finals. It may sound strange, but it’s a rule that when you make it to the final 8 you can train before the competition on the competition apparatus in the arena, but when the competition begins, with the television cameras rolling and the judges waiting, you are not allowed the 30 seconds to get accommodated with the apparatus that you have in a normal meet. That’s why they set up a training area next to the competition arena to warm-up in, but it’s never exactly the same. But everyone has the same disadvantage.

It was now time. As the first gymnast began competing in the floor final, I read the starting list over and over: Verona van de Leur 7th, Elena Gomez 8th. I was still a little nervous, but I told myself, ‘When you walk from the training area to the competition area, don’t look at the first 6 scores on the board.’ Because, if I did, and their scores were high, I would know that there was no chance to win a medal. On the other hand, if the scores were lower than normal, I knew I had a chance.

Frank called my name when it was time to enter the arena. Without saying a word, I could read on his face that the other scores were not insurmountable and that I had a chance for a medal. Taking a last deep breath, I walked from behind the curtains into the competition area to my seat, to place my bag and my shoes. During the final minutes, before I stepped out onto the floor, I reviewed in my mind the last details of my tumbling routine. Even though it’s not advised, I then looked out into the crowd, trying to spot my family. I saw them, dressed in Orange clothes, like good Dutchmen, ready to cheer me on. Samantha Sheehan from the United States had just finished her routine, earning the highest score so far, with a 9.325, but I didn’t know it at the time.

Now my turn had come. I walked up the little staircase to the apparatus and stood 4 inches off the floor, waiting for the green light and the judges to tell me to start. My name showed on the scoreboard with Go. I stepped onto the floor, took my position, and waited for my floor music to begin. My first tumbling pass was a double pike, with a full twist, and my landing was perfect; my second tumbling pass, a front layout double twist, plus a front layout, with another good landing. Next followed the part with the dancing and choreography from one corner of the floor apparatus to the other, to prepare for the third tumbling pass. During my dance routine, I somehow turned off my automatic pilot and many thoughts suddenly began to fill my head: Wow, I am in the floor finals at the World Championships! I have a chance to win my first World medal! My parents are here, I cannot let them down, where are they? I even tried to spot them in the crowd again during my floor routine.

We all had the theoretical lessons about being in the moment, and letting it all happen, and that your automatic pilot will take over because every gymnast can dream her routines; your body and mind know every step, every move. It sounds so stupid now, all the thoughts I had during this brief 20-25 second segment of my floor routine, but then I started to panic a little. I was standing in the corner of the floor, just before my third tumbling pass, and I almost forgot what to do, what tumbling I had already done, what’s next, run with my left or right foot first? A kind of mini-blackout! Then I remembered: a layout 2½ twist, plus a front somersault with a twist. Now just run and see what happens! I ran a bit faster than normal because I did not want to end up falling on my butt on the landing, which would be a huge deduction; but, because I gave it a bit more energy, I bounced off of the floor with one step, but I completed the entire tumbling pass! I was very happy that my body knew what to do even if my mind didn’t. Another dance sequence, then my final tumbling pass – a whip and a triple turn, well landed again! The music ended, I saluted the judges and ran off the floor over to my seat next to Frank.

It was the first time in my career that I had a smile on my face after my routine was over. All my feelings came out. I was glad that I had survived. Luckily, I did a great routine, even though I stepped out of the lines, and, fortunately, I did not let anyone down. It was the best I could hope for at that moment. And, after a few minutes, the judges posted my score: 9.35! (which included a 0.1 deduction for stepping out). This was a great score and I was now in first place! That meant that I was assured of a medal because only Spanish gymnast Elena Gomez remained, and even if she beat me, I would still have the silver medal. Again, I looked at my parents in the crowd, and they were crying with joy and cheering and waving towards me. I was so relieved, the pressure was gone, and I could enjoy the last routine of the competition.

Elena had a great routine, 4 big tumbling passes, (the last tumbling pass was a bit out of balance), but for the first time in history, not a triple, but 4 rotating pirouettes! That was something the judges rewarded her for. Her score was 9.487. This meant a gold medal for her and silver for me, and Samantha Sheenan won the bronze medal. It didn’t matter to me, I was happy with the silver. The medal ceremony for the floor finals followed immediately after. They placed a big podium in the middle of the same floor. On one side, girls dressed in traditional Hungarian costumes stood holding cushions with medals and flowers. When you hear your name spoken in the arena and the audience is cheering for you, it’s an incredible feeling. I walked over to the podium to congratulate Elena Gomez and to take my place on her left side while searching again for my family in the crowd. They all still had big smiles, from ear to ear.

All three medalists received the latest Nokia mobile phones and an ugly looking square medal. It is the ugliest medal of my entire career, but it commemorates my highest achievement in the sport and represents a lot of important memories for me. We now stood for the national anthem of Spain. The music played and they raised the three flags – the Netherlands, Spain, and the United States. Elena became the first Spanish gymnast ever to win a World title and I was so happy for her. She was so gracious. Even though it wasn’t my national anthem playing, the moment still felt very special to me and I almost got lightheaded and wobbly on my legs. Maybe it was the adrenaline or not eating all day. After the national anthem ended, we received overwhelming applause once again, and Samantha and I joined Elena on the highest step of the podium so that the photographers could take their pictures for the magazines and newspapers.

These young girls, myself included, represented a new generation of gymnasts who had a great future ahead at the Athens (Greece) Olympic Games in 2004, two years from then. But first, we had to qualify next year, in 2003, in Anaheim (USA) at the World Championships. If your team placed in the top 12, you would then earn a ticket for your country to participate in the Olympics the following year. This would be my first opportunity to make the Olympic Games because they had changed the rules in 1997, for the first time in 17 years! At the 58th Congress of the International Gymnastics Federation, in July 1980, just before the Moscow Olympics, the minimum age to compete was raised from 14 to 15. Under this new rule, which went into effect in 1981, gymnasts were required to turn at least 15 years of age in that calendar year to compete in senior-level events. This age requirement remained in place until 1997, when it was raised one more year, from 15 to 16. This change would have a great impact on my career and those of many other girls. Imagine if this rule had been in place in 1976, there would have been no 14-year-old Nadia Comaneci to change the gymnastics world forever!

Of course, I was not aware of any of this in 1997, because I was only 11 years old and still a junior. I had only competed in the Netherlands or, occasionally, across the border in Belgium, Germany, and England. I did not even know if I would ever go to the Europeans or the Worlds, or realize my ultimate dream – to compete in the Olympic Games. But looking back twenty years later, it’s tragic that I missed the 2000 Olympic Games in Sydney only because of this stupid rule change.

But at this moment in Debrecen, my life and career had reached important turning points. My parents and sister were proud of me, and I had not disappointed their expectations. My teammates were extremely happy for me. When I returned to the hotel, my teammate Gabriella Wammes, gave me my first-ever kiss on the mouth, which stirred confused thoughts in my mind. The media did what it always does, some celebrated that Holland now had a World medal in gymnastics, while others decried the fact that it could have been gold if I had only performed better. But for me, I was on top of the world, thinking about what was to come, but not knowing that this moment would be the pinnacle of my athletic career.

A Little Background

about Me and My Family

Iwas born on Friday , December 27, 1985, a few years after my parents, Sonja (born June 17, 1961) and Henk (born January 9, 1958) were married. I came into the world a little later than planned, because my mom did not want to have a baby on Christmas Day, which in Holland goes on for two days, December 25-26. Too much work in her eyes to celebrate the holiday and a birthday at the same time, so the doctors waited a little while and delivered me at 9 minutes after midnight on December 27.

I was born in the hospital in Gouda, the city of cheese in the Netherlands. You may recognize the name because Gouda cheese is famous all over the world. My parents named me after the Italian city of Verona, which they loved since they took a vacation trip by car throughout Europe (Belgium, France, Spain, and Italy) just before they got married. So here I am, named after the romantic city of Romeo and Juliet!

When I was born, we lived in a small flat, in a quiet little town called Waddinxveen, on the western side of the Netherlands. Waddinxveen was a Christian community with at least fifteen churches for 27,000 residents. When I was about two years old, my parents swapped houses with an older man who had a small family house with two floors, an attic, a little garden, and neighbors attached on both sides. He wanted to trade my parents for their little flat because he was now alone and no longer needed all the space.

My mom worked in a bookstore that sold office supplies, newspapers, cigarettes, and other things. She had to wear a long skirt to her ankles (instead of jeans or a skirt) because of the religion of her boss. That’s how religious people were in this small town. My dad worked at home as a watchmaker and clock repairman and people came to the door to bring him their cuckoo clocks to repair. He also worked occasionally for his sister, who owned a jewelry shop in Gouda, along with her husband, making watches. The business had been in the family for generations. In our new house, there was one room which was my father’s workspace, and I remember we had all sorts of clocks hanging on the walls throughout the house!

Three years after I was born, I got a baby sister named Denise (born on February 7, 1989). I was the opposite of my sister; she was the hyper one in the family, while I was quiet and shy. I wanted to play the role of big sister, but I never really got the chance. Because I had a baby face for many years, and my sister was verbally assertive and seemed to mature quickly, people thought, to my great annoyance, that I was the youngest. Denise thought it was amusing and she liked it that way.

My parents taught us at an early age to be polite and kind to everyone, to give up your seat on a bus to older people, to say ‘thank you’ and ‘you’re welcome,’ and that family is more important than anything else. I had to speak to my parents in two-word sentences: ‘yes, mom,’ or ‘no, mom.’ But in Dutch we have another word I had to use. It’s the difference between a formal and informal you. In English, people use the word you for everyone. But, in Dutch, there is U and You. U is what you use to address older people, strangers, teachers or even the King or Queen, while you is for people your own age, your friends, and generally for people on the same level. The formal U is always employed until people say that they prefer you to use the more informal option. I always had to use the formal U when speaking to my family and relatives. While it may be good manners, it was kind of odd because none of the other kids I knew used such formality with their parents. But I respected my family and I did as I was taught, even though it was very hard at times. In those days, I always thought the respect was mutual.

We had a big family. My mom had a brother and a sister, and my dad had a brother and three sisters. Most of my aunts and uncles each had two kids, which means I have a lot of cousins. For years, my family was very close on both sides. We went to every birthday party, at Christmas we went to see both grandparents, and on January 1st, we went to wish everyone a Happy New Year. It was a tradition. My father’s sister was also born on January 1st, so again there was a double celebration. Having a big family keeps you busy, but it’s also lots of fun.

My mom’s side of the family was not religious, while my dad and his siblings all had a Catholic education when they grew up and lived with their parents. He did his first Holy Communion, and everyone received baptismal names. But when he got older and moved out of the house, he abandoned the religion. I didn’t have to pray or to read the bible, but if I wanted to I could he told me.

I went to a Protestant grade school because it was just around the corner from our home. I didn’t mind. I could see it from my bedroom window. When the school bell rang at 8.30 am, I could run from my bedroom to school and still be on time for class. In this religious school, we had to pray a few times a day and sing psalms from the Bible. For me, it was more like lip-syncing, because I don’t like to sing and I didn’t think it would be good for anyone else’s ears if I did, LOL.

My sister Denise, on the other hand, found religion very interesting at a young age, and she got a few children’s Bible books and a Bible to study. She even went with our neighbors to church, because our parents never went. A lot of people in our neighborhood did go to church, but it never interested me. My grandparents on my father’s side had a lot of religious statues and crosses in their house. A cross above every door and even above my guest bed when I slept there. I always considered it kind of scary.

Around age four, my parents wanted me to learn to swim. First of all, because we had a small lake in front of our house, and you sometimes heard of children drowning. Also, because Holland is surrounded by a lot of water, so you cannot start swimming lessons early enough. I remember how you collected different colors of ribbons with each important step you made. The parents needed to sew these onto your swimsuit so that the swimming teacher could see what level you were at. For example, if he knew you can swim without inflatable tubes around your waist or arms, he would know that he didn’t have to rescue you if he saw you in the deeper water.

I remember on my final day, for the test to get our certificates, each parent had to take some clothes for their kids to jump into the water wearing and swim for several minutes so that the clothes would get wet and heavy. You need to keep your head above the water, of course, so you can rescue yourself if a similar situation happened in real life. My mom took it very seriously and packed a sweater, socks, and thick jeans – the old school, hard to move in, you barely can bend your knees type. Other parents chose shorts or thin leggings.

But I agreed with my mom and I wanted to prove that I could do this and that I am strong. I think it was a good idea because when you skate on ice in the winter, and if ice is thin, and you fall in the water wearing a winter jacket, it would be a lot heavier. You aren’t falling into the water wearing a bikini or swimsuit. The other task that day was for us to swim for several meters under the water until we could see the swimming instructor (he was standing halfway in the pool). But I didn’t want to fail the test, so I tried to open my eyes underwater to see him, but I only saw a light (which was on the other side of the pool) and I kept swimming until I was near to the light, because I did not see the instructor, and when I came up from under the water, I saw all the other kids had already quit halfway like they were supposed to do. Despite this, I still got my certificate, I just swam a little more than the others to get it, LOL.

I had my two certificates at the age of 5 and the swimming instructor told my parents that I had a good movement with my arms and strong legs (I think he saw talent). He asked if I wanted to try swimming as a sport, but I never liked it and the water is always cold, so I said no. Besides, Holland already had some great swimmers: Inge de Bruijn, with 8 Olympic Medals, Pieter van den Hoogenband, with 7 Olympic Medals, and Ranomi Kromowidjojo, with 4 Olympic Medals.

My parents wanted to involve me in sports and to stay active as a child and, now I had my A+B swimming certificates, they let me choose a sport I like. Most of my classmates and friends did dance and gymnastics. My mom took me first into a dance class to see if I liked it, but no, it was not for me at all! One lesson was enough and I never tried it again. But for me, there was finally my gym class to try and the very first day I can already do some tricks like the other kids in the gym class. Maybe not all clean, but I did the splits, a handstand against the wall, etc. I loved it from the very first minute and my mom signed me up for a year at the local gym called T.O.O.S. in Waddinxveen. At the age of five, my gymnastics career now began.

My grade school was not a special school for athletes. Such a thing didn’t exist back then, but they did everything they could over the years to give me free days for competitions and free hours in the morning to practice. The only thing I had to do in return was to bring coffee to the teachers and stay inside during recess to study some things I missed in the morning. I was a normal student; I liked math, Dutch language, drawing, and, of course, gym. I was quiet, paid attention to the teachers and had normal grades. Over the years, I had a few best friends – Gonny, Maria-Laura, Melissa, Ingrid and I were very close. Normally, when a classmate had a birthday party it was on their actual birthday, after school. But when my girlfriends had their birthday parties (they knew I had to train almost every day of the week), they planned to have it, especially for me, on my free Saturdays so I could be there with them to celebrate and to play.

As a young child, I remember doing a lot of fun things with my mom, moments that I still cherish to this day. We baked cookies together. We would go shopping at the supermarket to buy everything we needed, then we made the batter at home together, and ate all the leftovers in the bowl! (LOL) and put all the funny shaped cookies in the oven. Then we tried to wait until everything was ready, but we couldn’t wait until they cooled down to decorate them as planned because we wanted to taste them while they were still warm. I enjoyed spending time with her and I was always looking forward to the next time we cooked something together (like a cake or a pie, which we did more often).

My mom was also very creative. Every year, I had a new bedroom décor, not with new, expensive things, but a different color on the wall, or we would swap bedrooms (we had 3 in the house) or add cheap decorations to make it a little cozier, with a Beach theme, or a Chinese theme. Or we just changed the layout, putting the bed in a different corner. I also wanted to have a tall bunk bed so badly as a kid, and I finally got one! Second hand, of course, from a friend of ours. I don’t know if it was a good idea, looking back on it now, because I fell from the top bunk a few times, but luckily, I never injured myself. My mom put an extra mattress on the ground in case I fell out at night – problem solved! Because we lived in a small town, my mom also took me to the big city to shop, or sometimes just to get out of the house and go window-shopping, and at the end of the day to eat ice cream together. Or we searched the entire city for the perfect present for my dad’s birthday or Father’s Day. As I understood years later, it was for her, and me as well, a bit of an escape from the strict domestic structure that my father maintained in the household. My mom always behaved differently when my father was around. It always seemed as if we had to hide things from him, like that we had fun or spent a little bit of money: Don’t let your father know or we won’t tell him. Back then, I didn’t see anything behind it, because why would you as a child?

During carnival or any other celebration, when you dress up as a child, my mom made costumes for me. That was a fun process also. To look for fabric for different occasions at the bazaar. Then she would measure my entire body, cut out pieces of fabric, sit behind her sewing machine and put all the pieces together and voilà: she had a clown costume for me or even a Disney princess ball gown dress! (a yellow one like Belle). I think I was 5 at the time and I truly felt like a princess when I wore it, and my mom was my hero for doing this for me. I looked up to her and I wanted to be like her when I grew up.

My grandparents on my father’s side lived in a town called Kaatsheuvel, near a big theme park called de Efteling – it’s a magical place with fairies, fairytale forest, shows and a lot of roller coasters. When I had a sleepover, we would go to this park, just me and my grandparents, because my sister was still too young at the time. My grandparents had an annual membership, and because my grandpa was in a wheelchair, we could go to the special entrance and never had to wait in line if we went on the spinning cauldrons or carousels. I sure felt special going to the rollercoaster without standing in line for 3 hours, but for the most dangerous rides, I was still too young and too short. Still, as young girl, I already liked to go really fast and, when I was tall enough, also upside down! Every ride also had a picture moment and I knew my grandma would always buy these pictures at the end of the ride. After every holiday I spent with her, she would make a book for me with pictures and text telling how much fun we had, just for memories. Now we have phones to take pictures of every step we take, and computers to save them on, but years ago you had to print the pictures and keep them in a book.

Every time I see a pancake, I always remember being with my grandmother in a pancake restaurant and (as difficult as I am with choosing from all delicious things I like) I could not choose which pancake I wanted! She asked me what are your favorites? I told her I liked a pancake with apple and cinnamon, and a pancake with melted pieces of Gouda cheese. She told me, I will ask if you can have both together. The nice lady who worked there told me it’s no problem, she would ask the chef if he can make one special for me. When the pancake was ready, she came to serve it and she asked me, Can I have your name, please? Because the manager wants to put your pancake on the menu. I told her my name is Verona. And she responded, Well that’s a nice name! Enjoy your ‘Verona Pancake.’

My grandpa (my father’s dad) died at the age of 60, and just a short time before him my great-grandmother also died. I was maybe 7 years old and I still remember saying goodbye to her as she laid on her bed. And I also remember saying goodbye to my grandpa in his coffin. My parents let me decide for myself if I was ready to see someone who had passed away, but I wanted to see him and to say goodbye in my own words. I touched his hand. It felt so cold and he was so white or almost yellow. I was too scared to kiss him on the cheek, but I also wanted to play a role in the funeral. I was the only grandchild present because I was the oldest. They made a special role in the church funeral for me. The family had a big cross, at that time as big as I was, and it was set up in front of the church and I had to put a little cross on there with a magnet. One for my great-grandmother and one for my grandpa. I put them near each other. My mom told me there will be a cross on there for everyone as the years go by, but these two were the first. So far these were the only two people I lost in my life. My great grandmother loved all her grandchildren and spoiled them a lot. My grandpa had diabetes for many years and sat in a wheelchair most of the time. I remember he collected pins, and was a little grumpy from time to time, LOL. I still have nice memories of them both.

With both of my grandparents, on my mother’s and my father’s side, I had a good bond, but they were so different from each other, almost the opposite. But for me, as a kid, I treated them the same. One very religious, praying before and after every meal (I respected their values and just participated, even if I didn’t believe), the other no religion at all. One from high society, with their own jewelry business, the others more like country people, hardworking and down to earth. One would take you to an expensive theme park, the others to a free playground. For me, as a kid, they were both equal, there was no difference, I didn’t pay attention to money or appearances. I loved to go with my grandma on her bike, to buy bread, or to feed the deer, ducks, and other animals in the public park. It didn’t cost much, but I still had the time of my life. Important was that they gave me what I needed as a grandchild at the right moment – love, food, a place to sleep, an open door, and they didn’t have to look on the calendar to make time for me.

My Journey

to Elite Level Gymnastics

My mom first signed me up for gymnastics classes at a local gym called T.O.O.S in Waddinxveen in the Netherlands. The translation of the name of the gymnastics club in English is literally To Exercise Our Muscles, and that is exactly what we did. I started learning gymnastics only one hour a week. The head coach was a man named Teus van Vliet, and he also had a few female assistants who helped him during the training sessions with ballet, floor dancing, flexibility, weight training, beam work, etc. It is usual in gymnastics that the male coach does the heavy lifting, such as elements on the vault apparatus where they push the gymnast over the horse or pick them out of the air for a good landing. The same is true of the bars and the floor apparatus. It is just too difficult for most women to lift the kids (or adult athletes) over their heads and to keep them safe above the floor to avoid falling during their elements.

We were a group of young kids, between the ages of five and seven years old, and we started learning playfully. We would run from one wall of the gym to the other as fast as we could to practice the approach run needed for the vault apparatus. We also did a lot of pull-ups on an iron horizontal bar which was smooth, without any chalk, because the harder you had to squeeze your hands and fingers to stay on it, the stronger you would become. Once you did enough sit-ups and crunches, you could start to do more elements, but first, you needed to develop enough muscle to lift your bodyweight. It is critical to develop solid fundamentals in gymnastics before you start adding elements, otherwise, you learn to do them incorrectly and, once you do that, you never get it out of your system.

My coach, Teus, seemed to me, at that time, to be a demanding, sharp, overly enthusiastic, but goal-oriented trainer. His goal was to prepare a group of young girls to perform gymnastics at the highest level. It was serious training and became a lot more difficult as time went on. We had to climb up a rope hanging from the rafters of the ceiling using both our hands and our feet; when you became older and stronger, you had to climb it with only your hands, without using your feet at all.

I received a checklist for our summer vacation with all types of different exercises to keep me in shape, from running with your hands against a door to pushups, handstands, ab training, and much more. Using this list, we kept a log of our activities while we were away from the gym. I have always been a driven, goal-oriented person, so when I had a day off during my vacation from the gymnastics program, I felt empty because there was a blank space on my paper where I did not do anything to improve myself. So, in the evening, I could not resist doing some things to fill the blank spaces, even if it was only one round of a workout instead of three, four, or five rounds. When my vacation was over, we turned in our exercise logs to the coaches and they checked everyone in the group to see if they were still performing at the same level. Anyone could just cross off all the exercises on the list, but if you didn’t stay in shape it showed. And I was proud of myself that I trained every day and could show my results to my teachers.

We had an annual evaluation to see what progress we had made, not only in our body measurements, height and weight, but especially in terms of our strength, flexibility, and general development as a gymnast, to determine if we would move up to the higher group level. After one of these evaluations, my parents were told that I wasn’t good enough to move up to the next level. My knees were still not straight and the same was true for my feet. I had enough flexibility in my legs, doing the splits, etc., and my back was also fine, but as a gymnast, you need to have nice feet and legs. My parents did not like to hear this, but they were told that I could remain at the gym and keep working with the beginner’s group, mainly so the gym could continue to collect the fees from my parents. At the time, I was too young to think it was a big deal; I just liked going to the gym. And so, I kept going for another year.

When I was about 7 years old, Teus decided to take all the girls in our group out for a mini-triathlon – running, riding bike, and swimming. The girls were of all ages, starting with seven years old, like me, but also including seniors, between sixteen and twenty years old. I had a simple child’s bike, of course, without gears and with only a coaster brake. But we started the day with running. Because I was so small, my six steps were equal to one or two steps of the older girls, and Teus was running out in front of us, enthusiastic and full of energy. I don’t remember how far we ran, but I was exhausted. Still, I tried not to show it. As a kid, of course, I had lots of energy, and I did not want to fall behind the group as we switched from running to riding our bicycles. Even here, I fell behind my older teammates because it was the same problem as with running: my legs were too short and, of course, I could not catch up to them. Thinking back, it was not a good decision for Teus to bring along the younger girls, but it was a nice summer day, and, instead of being cooped up inside a hot gym, it was nice to workout outside. The older girls had to push me on my bike after a while because my legs were just too tired to keep pedaling! They held onto the back of my bike and pushed me along as they rode their own bikes.

Finally, we came to the lake where we had to swim. We had our swimsuits on underneath our clothes and Teus jumped into the lake with the older girls and they swam really fast to the deeper area (maybe not so fast, but we still couldn’t keep up). I was with a small group, maybe three to five girls at most, and we also went into the water. We didn’t know what to do, we couldn’t catch up to them, but we swam from the shore of the lake out to the middle of the water in the direction that the other girls had gone. My legs were completely paralyzed from running and riding my bike, and now I began to panic! The other girls had helped me while riding my bike because I couldn’t go on alone, but here in the lake it was a different story, there was no one to help me stay above the water. We were too far from the edge to go back, and I didn’t have any energy left. Of course, I would NEVER ask anyone for help, first of all, because I was too shy, but also because I was stubborn and I always want to take care of myself and never wanted to ask for anyone’s help. This time was different though. My body was not listening to my mind anymore and I even asked one of my teammates (of the same age, who must have been just as tired as I was) if she could help me, if I could hold on to her back for a second, but she said no, it wasn’t possible. I said we need to yell to Teus and the older girls for help because I couldn’t swim any longer. I felt like I was sinking and it was hard to keep my head above water... And then a second later, we all started yelling as loud as we could, HELP! Teus, HELP! I remember he looked back while swimming in the distance and then he turned back in our direction and swam as fast and hard as he could toward us. When he reached us, he picked me with his arms around my waist and pulled me out of the water, while the other girls had to swim back with him. I remember he was a little angry at us because we went out into the deeper area of the lake. He said he told us to stay in the children’s area where you could stand up in the water. But none of us heard this. I don’t remember much more about that day, except that my legs were shaking. It was a traumatic experience, and, I’m not sure if it’s because of what happened, but I never again liked to swim in the open water. It always seemed cold and dirty to me. I had a rash a few times from swimming in a lake or river, and maybe, somewhere in my head, I still have anxiety from this day.

You might ask, was I angry with Teus or did I blame him for what happened? It’s a good question. Of course, it wasn’t a great idea to put young kids together with older gymnasts, without the supervision of another person, but you have to stretch your limits in training sometimes if you want to become a good athlete. Also, I honestly don’t recall if he told us to stay in the shallow water or not, because none of us heard this. Or maybe we kids were just too busy having fun and not paying attention? Or perhaps he never said it. I never spoke much about this day with my parents or friends after that, but it always remained in my mind. But, luckily, nothing bad happened, I did not have to be resuscitated, and I did not drown; otherwise, yes, I would have blamed him, but no, I’m not angry with him.

I don’t know if it had anything to do with the triathlon incident, but later that same year, Teus was fired. The directors of the local gym simply preferred the cozy nature of a small village club over the glitz and glamour of professional sports. They didn’t want to have someone running their club with ambitions to be the best in the country. Now, we had no coach, and no more training. But I wasn’t content to remain at the same level and to merely run and play like before since I had already started to learn some actual gymnastics tricks.

Luckily, soon after, a female coach from Zoetermeer, about 20 kilometers/13 miles from Waddinxveen where I lived and trained in Holland, wanted to take the girls under her wings. This meant that we could still do gymnastics at our own level and also enter competitions! This was called C-Level at the time and the club was called Pro Patria. Still, it was a hard decision to make because the gym was no longer in my hometown, a mere three minutes from my house, but a half-hour drive away. I talked it over with my parents, and I decided to try this new club. I preferred gymnastics to dance, tennis, swimming, or other things, so they decided to bring me there once a week to see how it goes. Not only for me, but also for them, because a training session was not just one hour, but, in reality, 2-3 hours, with setting up and dismantling the apparatuses and cleaning up afterward. My mom also had to drive 30 minutes to bring me there, and then 30 minutes to go back home to make dinner while I trained, then another 30 minutes to come to get me, and finally 30 minutes to bring me home after practice. And they also realized that if I liked it and did well, it wouldn’t remain just one day a week. My mom decided to drop everything for it, her work went from full-time to part-time, and after a few years, she quit completely. My dad had to bring in more money to support our family, and his work as a watchmaker was not very stable, so he began searching for a new job; he found one as a coordinator for BAM infra RAIL, scheduling employees to work on roads and railways.

My love of sports grew rapidly, and one day became two days and later even three days a week. We learned the required elements for our exercises. It’s the same exercise for all girls at this age and level (the same steps, the same skills, the same floor music, etc.). It’s very boring for judges and parents on the sidelines to watch a competition, but I started to win some of my first medals! Never gold, always silver and bronze. I loved this club, we had around 20-25 gymnasts of all ages, and the oldest gymnast was my idol, her name was Ilse Mulder. She was the best at that time. I liked her style and she had a kind personality. She also did some rhythmic gymnastics occasionally. That was something I also did at home, even before I came to Pro Patria! Or perhaps I should just call it holding a stick with a ribbon or my mom’s silk scarf while trying to move like a ballerina and make pirouettes to music.

My coach at Pro Patria was Sylvia Minnen. I really liked her. She told you what she wanted you to do, and also corrected you, but she never became angry or spoke negatively or dealt harshly with us. Maybe this was because my group of five girls, around the ages of 7-9 years old, was the youngest group of all. I didn’t have any bad experiences during these years. Sylvia even spent the holidays with us girls! Each year, she chose around 5 girls of different ages to go on a holiday together for a week, I went with her and a few of my teammates to Chaam, near Belgium. It was really fun! I remember we had an ant plague in the kitchen one day, LOL. I even went to a flea market for the first time in my life. We also created our own floor choreography while we danced on the grass in front of our igloo-shaped huts and performed cartwheels all day long, not because we had to, but just for fun. And that whole week we spent time putting together a newsletter for the club, with pictures from the trip, jokes, games, and stories, so that once we got home we could show what we did and print it for everyone. And the next year, I could see the newsletter from the other girls who went on this holiday trip.

This C-Level gym club was nice in every way. In my eyes, it had a good, healthy environment. It was not an elite level club, so you could play sometimes and make jokes, but still, you had to do your flexibility and weight training, which is not always that fun, and, with learning new skills, sometimes the challenge is to overcome your fears. But for me, the process was what I loved. We warmed up to music, and we also performed demonstrations throughout the year. From dancing on the city streets as Pinocchio, with the five youngest gymnasts from my group, to the World Gymnaestrada in Berlin, Germany, in 1995, where we did a gymnastics demo.

My mom and dad didn’t have much money, but my mom always wanted me to look good when I went out of the house or did any street demonstrations like that. In my daily life, I was so proud to wear my handmade, pink, over the knee dress. Even using secondhand clothes that came from my niece, she created nice combinations and I always looked good, at least for the fashion standards of the time, LOL. During my birthdays, I never received the most expensive, popular things as presents. My mom tried to teach me that money wasn’t important, instead, it was about appreciating each other. When I did receive something more expensive, it was because I needed it anyway, and a birthday was the perfect excuse to combine the expenses. Things like a winter jacket, or new clothes when I had a growth spurt, or school supplies, or something you were saving for as a kid, where you can add your money to theirs and pay together, like a cd-player or an old-school-tv or radio.

We did a lot of crafting together using clay, not the Play-Dough for young kids, but the more professional kind that you bake. We made very detailed objects, like a mouse family, roses, and other things. We also made surprise-packages for Christmas at school or for at the gym when I was in C-level. Where you hide a little inexpensive present and the one with your ticket gets to open it to find the present. My mom was so passionate about crafting, she made the most beautiful designs, I often had the most beautiful surprise package in the group. And maybe every mother likes to dress up her little girl, but my mom also liked to braid my hair. I had long hair to play with, and sometimes she did one braid in the middle on top or two on the side, and I could sit for 30 minutes to an hour on a wooden chair for a nice hairstyle. But even when it hurt a little, it was worth it. I always slept with the curlers in my hair, so the day after it gave me waves. And I totally forgot that I received a coin from the tooth fairy under my pillow every time I lost a tooth, LOL. We often went to my grandparents (my mom’s parents) or my aunt (my mom’s sister) because we all lived in the same city. I have a lot of sweet memories from the past of my mother and me together.

During the first year after I made the switch from my hometown club in Waddinxveen to Zoetermeer to do C-Level gymnastics, there was a coach who came to

watch our training. His name was Frank Louter and he was looking to recruit new talent for his A-Level group. He saw some things that he liked in me – my lines, body, flexibility –, but also several things that I needed to work on. He asked my parents if I wanted to try gymnastics at a higher level, and they asked me for my opinion. I really loved Pro Patria and I wanted to stay. I had already switched from my local gym to the C-Level group and had become involved in competitions. And yes, in my mind there was always the thought, ‘If I don’t try it, I’ll never know,’ but it was too much for me at the age of 8, so I stayed in Zoetermeer.

I had my first major success in gymnastics at C-Level in 1995, when I won the bronze medal in the all-around competition at the Nationals. I was extremely proud of this because it was very hard to qualify for Nationals at C-Level. There were hundreds of gymnasts in the C-level so to qualify in the top 24 at each competition was not easy. I remember the year before I was happy to finish 25th at the semi-finals, making me a reserve for the Nationals.

I don’t know if Frank Louter remembered me or if he just went from club to club every year, but the next year he asked me again. But this was his last try because I was already turning 9, and, believe it or not, this is old to start gymnastics at a competitive level. Again, I talked to my mom and dad, and this time I decided I wanted to give it a try, even though I was very happy at the C-Level club. I thought to myself, ‘If I don’t try it, maybe I’ll regret it later, and maybe there was a chance that I could become a good gymnast!’ Frank did not, of course, tell me much about the bad side of gymnastics, like injuries, maybe not living with your parents anymore, anorexia, the need to put in so much work – blood, sweat, and tears – and perhaps end up with nothing to show for it. Instead, he focused on the positive things, that I could reach the Olympics if I trained hard for it. I enjoyed watching gymnastics on television and I saw the movie, Corina – Reaching for the Sky, the story of a young girl in Romania realizing her dream to become an elite gymnast, and maybe this gave me an extra drive, to one day be like the girls I was watching. Now I could follow in their footsteps, and maybe one day see myself on television. And so, I said YES to the offer from Frank Louter to train with the elite group in the A-Level program. Of course, there was a 3-month evaluation to start, to see if you could handle the pressure and the long hours, and to see if you could learn fast enough, but I was just happy to have the opportunity. I continued to train with my C-Level girls, but the other days of the week I spent training with my new A-Level colleagues.

I remember those first training sessions, as I looked over my new gym; it was a regular-sized gym like the one I was used to in Waddinxveen, but we no longer had to set up the apparatuses each day, they stayed up all the time because the girls there were training 6 days a week! There were two high balance beams, one middle beam, and one floor beam, uneven bars, a high bar, a vault, even a spot with mirrors to do ballet, and a tumbling area to practice your floor tumbling. Mats were everywhere, leaving no portion of the original floor visible. The only thing missing was a large official floor apparatus (12x12 meters/39.37x39.37 feet) because it was too large to fit in the space, so we used another gym, attached to this one, where they also played indoor soccer and basketball, to learn our new choreography on the vinyl floor so that we know from which corner to start and dance around for the judges in a competition.

I met girls who had been training here at this high level since they were 5 years old! They looked like acrobats, flipping around, doing amazing tricks, summersaults on the beam, turning with swings on the bars all by themselves! I felt a little scared, overwhelmed, and just completely out of place, like I didn’t belong there, I almost wanted to go home. Some of the girls were nice and came over to say hello to me and shake my hand, while others were more arrogant as if they were thinking, Ugh, another girl who thinks she can do gymnastics, and rolled their eyes. But there were some nice teachers, two women and two men (one of the men was Frank Louter himself!). My coach Sylvia from the C-Level club was also there at the beginning to help me, but, after a while, I had to do it on my own.

If I wanted to become part of the group I