The relationship between Naomi Osaka and her former partner was always somewhat enigmatic. In the public eye, Naomi, the Japanese tennis superstar, was admired not only for her fierce athleticism but also for her vulnerability and openness about mental health. It was no secret that the weight of the world often seemed to be on her shoulders, balancing the expectations of being a world-class athlete while confronting the internal struggles that many of us face.
However, it was in the quiet moments behind the scenes, in private discussions and exchanges, that the complexity of her journey was revealed. I, as her former partner, had been a witness to many of these moments, sharing in the highs and lows of her life both on and off the court. In those moments, I felt a deep sense of responsibility to offer advice, counsel, and support.
But recently, looking back on one particular piece of advice I had given her, I couldn’t help but feel regret. I had told Naomi that she needed to “forget about the past”—that she needed to move forward and focus on the present and future. It had been well-meaning advice at the time, one that came from a place of wanting to protect her from the weight of past burdens. But now, reflecting on it, I understand how misguided my words had been.
Naomi’s journey in tennis, like many athletes, was not just defined by her triumphs but also by her struggles—some of which were intensely personal. Over the years, we’d seen the headlines and heard the rumors. The pressure of being a champion was relentless, and though she wore the mantle of success gracefully, it was evident that she, like many of us, grappled with self-doubt, the noise of public opinion, and the fear of failure.
There were moments when she considered stepping away from the sport, when the mental toll of it all seemed too much to bear. In those quieter times, I tried to reassure her, but perhaps my reassurances were too simplistic. I had always believed in the idea of letting go of past failures or criticisms in order to make room for personal growth. But what I didn’t fully appreciate at the time was that Naomi’s relationship with her past—both her triumphs and her hardships—was part of her very essence. The lessons, memories, and experiences from her past had helped shape her into the person she was, and I now realized that dismissing those moments was a disservice to her emotional well-being.
Tennis, for Naomi, had been a deeply emotional experience. It wasn’t just a sport—it was a medium through which she confronted her own identity, her struggles, and her strengths. When she experienced setbacks, whether due to injury, personal loss, or public scrutiny, those moments weren’t just “things of the past” that should be forgotten. They were integral parts of her story that influenced her evolution as an athlete and as a person. Each victory and each defeat left a mark, not just on her career, but on her spirit. To tell her to forget about those moments was, in retrospect, to suggest that she erase pieces of herself.
I remember one specific conversation we had when she was struggling with a difficult loss at a major tournament. She sat there, quiet and contemplative, staring out the window of our apartment. She confided in me about the weight of her perceived failures, about the expectations she felt were constantly being imposed upon her. I, in an attempt to offer comfort, suggested that she try to let go of those negative memories and simply focus on what was ahead. “The past can’t be changed,” I had said, “so why hold onto it?”
At the time, I truly believed I was helping her. But now, as I reflect, I see how short-sighted that advice was. The past—her past—was not something that could or should be easily discarded. It was filled with invaluable lessons, raw emotions, and experiences that contributed to her growth. It was a crucial part of her resilience.
In fact, it was the weight of her past that often propelled her to fight harder, to rise above her challenges, and to redefine herself after each setback. Naomi’s journey wasn’t linear—it was cyclical, a process of constant reinvention. But in order to understand the strength of her reinvention, she needed to honor the past, to reflect on it, and to incorporate its lessons into her present and future self.
I now realize that my advice was rooted in a well-intentioned but flawed perspective. I was trying to help her “move on” from pain, but in doing so, I may have inadvertently diminished the value of the experiences that had made her who she was. Every player, every athlete, carries their past with them—whether it’s an Olympic gold medal, a heartbreaking defeat, or a moment of deep self-doubt. It’s all part of the story.
When Naomi eventually took a break from the sport, it was clear to me that she wasn’t simply “forgetting the past” or “moving on.” Rather, she was stepping back to find balance, to take the time she needed to process everything she had experienced. It was a deeply personal decision, one that was more about self-care and healing than about erasing the past. I should have known better. I should have encouraged her to take the time to reflect and appreciate how far she had come, rather than urging her to simply move on. In fact, the idea of forgetting one’s past is often more harmful than helpful. It suggests that we can grow by ignoring the pain or struggles we’ve been through, when in fact, those experiences are often what mold us into who we are meant to be.
As I reflect on this mistake, I also realize that the essence of what Naomi needed was not advice to forget but rather validation of her journey. She didn’t need to forget the challenges she had faced. She needed to learn how to embrace them, to recognize that they were part of her strength. Her emotional struggles, her losses, her doubts—they didn’t make her weak; they made her human. And it was through acknowledging those experiences that she would continue to grow as both an athlete and a person.
I apologize to Naomi for advising her to forget about the past, and I hope she knows that my intentions were rooted in care. But I also recognize now that I, too, was learning about the complexities of human growth. We all carry our histories with us, and those histories, while sometimes painful, are an essential part of who we are.
Naomi’s resilience lies in her ability to confront and learn from her past, not in running from it. And in offering her my apology, I also offer the same lesson to anyone who might be grappling with their own past. It’s not something to forget, but something to embrace as part of the ongoing story of who we are.
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