Athletes like me are told to be ‘tough.’ It’s terrible advice.

“Pressure is a privilege,” Billie Jean King states on the cover of her autobiography. Looking back at her groundbreaking 39-time Grand Slam-winning career, the pressure stemming from playing at the most prestigious tennis venues in the world is surely a privilege. But for many kids who may never enter the limelight of Wimbledon’s night lights, pressure is not a privilege. It’s a danger.

Throughout my tennis career, in which I won three Pennsylvania state championships, I have encountered the pressure to win — a lot of it. In every match I played in the state championships, my stomach would ache, my legs would go numb, my breathing would falter, and my body would tremble. The pressure would, figuratively speaking, beat me down to the ground.

How can I make this pressure into a privilege? The advice I have gotten for years from coaches and fellow athletes was to “hang in there” and “stay mentally tough.” I was told my mental toughness — the ability to consistently perform under pressure no matter the conditions — would only get better as I stuck it out and gained more experience.

This advice was wrong.

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The continuous pressure from the tennis court began to seep into my everyday life. No matter what I was doing, even if I was in the middle of taking a test at school, the worries about tennis never stopped. Can I beat my opponent? What happens if I lose? Will I be able to play college tennis? Will I even be able to become successful?

The more I tried to overcome my mental barriers by trying to “stay tough,” the more I would let go of my mental well-being. On the court, I struggled to see the bright yellow tennis ball coming in my direction. Soon, this negative self-talk took over my previously calm demeanor. As with many athletes, I entered a slump.

An article posted on the National Collegiate Athletic Association website states that “Student-athletes, coaches, and staff tend to minimize mental disorders or psychological distress because of the expectations of strength, stability, and ‘mental toughness’ inherent in the sports culture.”

But this does not just apply to college student-athletes: The stigma attached to seeking help is very prevalent among professional and junior athletes, too. Naomi Osaka, the star tennis player, was widely criticized for withdrawing from the French Open to protect her mental health. Same when gymnast Simone Biles stepped away from the Tokyo Olympics. I now see both of these moves as a sign of strength.

I am grateful to all the athletes who are making their mental health a priority, as that makes it easier for everyone else to do it, too. By dispelling the myth that mental vulnerability equals weakness in sports, we will create a safer and more supportive environment for young athletes to open up about their struggles. Mental toughness should never be a substitute for mental health struggles, and in no scenario should there ever be a stigma associated with mental health and well-being.

Basketball stars Lebron James and Michael Jordan, as well as Iga Świątek — the No. 1-ranked women’s tennis player in the world — have all sought the guidance of sports psychologists throughout their careers. Were they not mentally tough? If world-class athletes can speak to someone about how to make the best use of their mental abilities, what is stopping you?

At first, I was hesitant to consult a sports psychologist.

At first, I was hesitant to consult a sports psychologist. I believed that telling someone about my struggles would create the perception that I was weak-minded by looking for help instead of enduring the situation. With everyone wanting to be perceived in a certain light, it is hard to open up to a stranger. However, the reluctance to talk about my mental struggles lessened with every loss. After consecutive underperformances at national tournaments last summer, I lost confidence in simply hitting the tennis ball over the net. It seemed as though the skills that I built over the period of 10 years became nonexistent within just a few months of self-doubt and negativity.

When I began talking to a sports psychologist, I developed a newfound understanding of myself, on and off the tennis court. I began to understand my constant desire for perfection, and I started to set smaller goals that were more focused on daily improvement rather than monthly tournament results. Through learned breathing techniques such as the Navy Seal breathing method and mental cues like reading the lettering on an incoming tennis ball when I am losing focus, I began developing the trust and confidence that I needed to block out any disruptive thoughts, both in the classroom and on the tennis court.

Now heading into this summer, I have been undefeated during team matches for Lower Merion High School, leading the team to a third consecutive Pennsylvania Interscholastic Athletic Association 3A District 1 title and 3A state championship final. More importantly, I have been able to embrace the pressure of serving out a match or rallying out a deuce point, something I have never done before.

We can all turn our pressure into a privilege. But first, we have to speak up about the struggles we face.

Brian Yi is a junior at Lower Merion High School.