"I Didn't Expect to Feel Lonely": Finding Belonging After Sport

Nobody warns you about the silence.

You step off the field, out of the changing room, and for the first time in years, maybe decades, it’s just you.

The team talks stop. The schedule disappears. There are no more early starts, shared suffering, or people waiting for you on the other side of the match.

Just… space.

Some athletes welcome that pause, but many are hit with something much harder to admit: loneliness. It’s not because they don’t have friends or family, but because they’ve lost something that’s difficult to replace – a team.

You’re Not Alone in Feeling Alone

In nearly every athlete transition conversation we’ve had at ACT Community, whether with Olympians, league champions, or grassroots warriors, the same theme comes up. The words might change, but the feeling is familiar.

“I didn’t think it would feel this empty.”

“I miss the group chats, the banter, the sense that someone always had my back.”

“I’m lost without the camaraderie.”

“I’ve got people around me, but I feel like no one really gets it.”

This is the hidden cost of leaving sport, and the side of transition that people rarely talk about. It’s not just about the new life you’re walking toward, but about what you’re leaving behind.

The Team Behind the Team

Sport gives you more than structure. It gives you a tribe. That tribe runs deeper than just your teammates. It includes physios, coaches, mentors, the kit team, fans, nutritionists, kitchen staff, the ticket sales team, sponsors, and that one coach who always saw the best in you.

These are the people who really cared and showed up to support you, whether you won or lost. They knew your rituals, your superstitions, and your story. And crucially, they expected you to show up too.

That kind of mutual commitment creates something powerful. It’s more than camaraderie. It becomes your identity and, when it’s gone, it’s natural to feel adrift.

From 30 Teammates to Just Me

When I stepped away from professional rugby, I knew my routine would change. What I didn’t expect was the silence.

I’d spent years in a high-performance environment, surrounded by people who shared the same common goal. Suddenly, I was sitting alone at my kitchen table, trying to figure out what came next. Within a year, I had set up my own business. It was exciting, but it was also isolating. I had no team, no structure, and no one to bounce ideas off.

My family were as supportive as they could be, but they didn’t really understand what I was going through. And truthfully, I didn’t either at first. I couldn’t explain why I felt disconnected, why my motivation was flat, and why I missed conversations about lineouts and tactics more than I missed playing the actual game.

What I came to realize is that I wasn’t missing the sport, but rather the belonging that came with it. I missed the shared language, the unspoken support, and that feeling that you were never really facing anything alone.

This insight is what eventually led myself and my brother, Andy, to create Athlete Career Transition 15 years ago. The truth is that this messy, uncertain middle between elite sport and what’s next can’t be navigated alone. Athletes need a bridge, somewhere to reconnect, recalibrate, and rebuild.

That’s what we’ve been building at ACT Community, a bridge built to carry athletes over the toughest part of transition, with the right tools and the right people by your side. It’s a team built on shared experience, genuine understanding and a firm belief in you and your capabilities to thrive in the chapters still to come.

What Can You Do?

Here’s what we’ve learned from walking alongside hundreds of athletes through this transition:

• Don’t mistake solitude for failure: feeling lonely doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re human.
• Reconnect intentionally: proactively make connections, whether through peer mentoring, athlete forums, or one-on-one conversations.
• Give yourself permission to miss it: you’re allowed to mourn the team. It meant something to you and that’s why it’s hard to lose.
• Invest in your next tribe: Community doesn’t have to look like it used to, but it still has to exist. You need people who understand your why.

Why Community Still Counts

Throughout your sporting career, community is often so embedded in daily life that you barely need to think about it. It’s there in the routine, in the relationships, and in the quiet, constant sense that you’re part of something bigger than yourself.

When sport ends, that structure tends to fall away, but the need for connection doesn’t go anywhere. If anything, it becomes more important – not as a safety net, but as a steadying force when everything else is shifting.

Community in this next chapter isn’t about recreating a team or clinging to the past. It’s about finding spaces where you can be honest, where you don’t have to explain yourself, and where others recognise both where you’ve come from and what you’re capable of next.

You’ve Still Got a Team. It Just Looks Different Now.

If you’re feeling isolated, disconnected, or unsure, know this: you’re not broken. It simply means you’re in a space that most athletes aren’t prepared for, the space between what was and what’s next.

This part of the journey can feel messy and unfamiliar, but it isn’t a dead end. It’s a beginning, and while it might take time to find your footing again, you don’t have to do it alone.

ACT Community is a space where athletes can be understood, supported, and challenged to grow into the next version of themselves. It’s a place where lived experience matters, where shared language is valued, and where no one must start from scratch.

So wherever you are in your transition, don’t keep it to yourself. Start a conversation, reach out to us and we’ll connect you with people who can walk this road with you.