From sport to purpose: My journey as an athlete, survivor, and advocate

Good afternoon, everyone.

I am truly honoured to be here — to open this important conference, and to speak with people who care deeply about the future of sport.

What I want to share today is both personal and urgent. It’s my journey from gymnastics to advocacy — from chasing dreams and winning medals to navigating betrayal, trauma, and the fight for accountability.
 
My hope is that my story can spark conversations that go far beyond this room — conversations that protect athletes, challenge power, and make sport safer and stronger for generations to come.

When people first saw me, they saw a gymnast — an athlete, a competitor, a medalist. But behind the medals, there was a story that no one yet knew: I was a survivor of sexual abuse.
 
Standing here today, I am Maggie Nichols — a survivor, an advocate, and someone who believes sports everywhere can and must be better.

Gymnastics has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. I started at just three years old. My parents put me in gymnastics because they hoped gymnastics would give me a safe outlet for my energy. Little did we know it would become a lifelong passion that shaped my future in ways none of us could imagine.
 
By age ten, I was competing nationally. By my teenage years, I was an elite gymnast on the national team, traveling internationally and representing the United States.
 
Gymnastics wasn’t just a sport — it was my identity. Every skill, every routine, every medal, every competition felt like steps toward my dreams. The camaraderie with teammates, the thrill of competition, the pride of representing my country — all of it gave me purpose and shaped who I was.
 
But alongside that joy came immense pressure: to succeed, to perform flawlessly, to endure pain without complaint, to never stop — it was relentless. That pressure pushed me through injuries, emotional exhaustion, and mental strain.
 
And then there was another side to gymnastics — one I didn’t understand at the time but that would forever change my life.
 
During training, I was regularly seen by Larry Nassar, the team doctor trusted by countless gymnasts, coaches, and athletes like me. He was supposed to help us recover from injuries and keep our bodies healthy.
 
Looking back, I now understand that the pain I endured wasn’t just physical. There was another kind of violation happening — one I didn’t yet have the words to describe. Nassar abused me and many others, taking advantage of trust in the worst possible way.
 
At the time, I felt uncomfortable and confused. Now I see it clearly for what it was: manipulation, control, and abuse.
 
At the National Team Training Center, speaking out wasn’t just discouraged — it felt impossible. The culture was built on obedience and silence. Success depended on staying in line and never causing problems.
 
Nassar’s deception was effective because he positioned himself as kind and caring, someone different from the other adults around us. He used that trust to blur the lines, to make abuse feel normal. That is what grooming looks like — subtle, gradual, calculated — so that by the time you realize something is wrong, you don’t know how to stop it.
 
As I grew older, I recognized patterns of control and the systems that allowed abuse to continue unchecked.

When I decided to speak up, I knew it wouldn’t be easy. I knew the world might see me differently, reduce me to a story or a label. But staying silent would only protect the abuser and allow the cycle of abuse to continue. I could not let that happen.
 
When my story became public, I was suddenly known as Athlete A — a letter, a case, a placeholder in headlines. But speaking out became more than a name in a news story. It became a spark for change.
 
It sent a message to other athletes: you are not alone, your experiences matter, and abuse can no longer hide behind authority, medals, or fame.
 
I was the first gymnast to report Larry Nassar’s abuse to USA Gymnastics in 2015. Instead of protecting athletes, the organization chose to shield Nassar and dismiss my complaint. That inaction allowed him to continue abusing athletes for over a year.
 
The abuse I endured was not an isolated incident. 100’s of survivors – including Olympians - have since come forward. The systemic failures within USA Gymnastics, the U.S. Olympic Committee, and Michigan State University allowed Nassar’s crimes to persist for far too long — a horrifying reminder that silence and complicity can be just as damaging as the abuse itself.

What happened to me was part of a much larger pattern.
 
It was about a culture, a system, and institutions that failed to protect athletes.
 
In high-performance sports, obedience and compliance were often rewarded. Pain, fear, and concerns were dismissed as weakness. Speaking up could jeopardize your career, your future, even your identity as an athlete.
 
Leaders ignored warnings and protected themselves instead of the athletes they were supposed to serve. And when systems operate this way, abuse can hide in plain sight for years.
 
This is happening in all sports. The same dangerous patterns repeat themselves:
 
Whistleblowers punished instead of protected.

Journalists silenced instead of supported.
  
Athletes ignored instead of believed.
 
When dialogue is shut down, abuse thrives. When power is unchecked, democracy in sport disappears.
 
That is why education and accountability is essential. Systems fail when they lack transparency, oversight, and accountability. Grooming and manipulation are subtle and calculated. Without awareness, it remains invisible. We must build cultures that put dignity, safety, and well-being above medals, profits, and reputation.
  
For a long time, gymnastics defined me. It was my identity, my purpose, my world. But the system I loved had failed me.
 
I realized that my experience — and the courage it took to speak up — could be transformed into purpose: To turn experience into education, silence into dialogue, and trauma into systemic change.
 
That is why I launched The Maggie Nichols Foundation — to support and empower survivors of abuse, provide resources, and community, while also raising awareness to prevent future harm.
 
My work now includes:

Educating athletes, parents, and coaches about abuse, grooming, and manipulation.

Sharing my story publicly to show athletes they are not alone.
 
 Supporting survivors directly through the Maggie Nichols Foundation, providing hope, strength, and the message that their voices matter.
 
Change requires action: athletes must be empowered to speak, leaders must be held accountable, and everyone — coaches, parents, teachers, administrators, fans — has a role in creating safe environments.
 
I am here for every athlete, across every sport, who has ever wondered whether their voice could make a difference. It can. Your story matters. Your courage matters. And together, we can demand accountability, change systems, and ensure that no athlete suffers in silence again.
 
We need to insist on creating a safer, democratic sport, which requires clear principles:
 
Athletes must be heard and believed.

Transparency must be non-negotiable.
 
Whistleblowers must be protected, not punished.
 
Leadership must be held accountable.
 
These principles are actionable — a roadmap for gyms, clubs, federations, and international organizations.
 
As we begin this conference, I invite you to imagine the world of sport we could build together:
 
A world where athletes never fear speaking out.
 
A world where leaders are held accountable.
 
A world where fairness, respect, and dignity are not lofty ideals, but the standard we live by.
 
This vision will only happen if we are willing to confront the failures, listen to the uncomfortable truths, and commit to real change.
 
That is why Play the Game is so important. It brings together athletes, journalists, researchers, whistleblowers, and leaders who dare to question power and push for transparency. It is here — in spaces like this — where democracy in sport is not just discussed, but demanded.
 
That is my purpose. That is why I am here. And it is my honor to share it with all of you as we begin this important conference together.
 
Thank you!

View Maggie Nichols' keynote speech