Editor's Note: Missy Erickson says that as a junior racer she endured three years of sexual, verbal, and emotional abuse from a man connected to her cycling club. Now 26, the multi-time national track champion hopes that her story will increase awareness of the issue and help young athletes in similar situations recognize signs of abuse. This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.

I started cycling when I was 15 as a way to stay in shape for cross-country skiing during the summer. My parents bought me a Trek. It was a 1300 I think—red and white with a triple chainring and 105 components—and I joined a bike club.

Every Tuesday night, a group gathered for a fast ride. We’d go out on a route along a chain of lakes. Each lake had a sprint at the end. It was like a crit—sprints over and over again. Pretty quickly it became apparent that I was really good at sprinting.

I was the only female in the club and the only junior. A man connected with the club took me under his wing. He was twice my age. He showered me with praise, told me how talented I was, and helped me with my training—coaching me for free. I received a lot of special attention, and he made me believe that I could trust him. At the time, my parents were going through what would eventually become a divorce; I didn’t really want to be at home, so he became someone I could talk to.

The first time any sexual abuse happened was after a ride. When we got back to the bike shop, a group lingered. They left one by one until it was just the two of us.

He told me there was something upstairs he wanted to show me. So I went upstairs. He told me to sit down, so I sat down. Step by step, I was led into things I had never experienced before. I was alone, with someone I had looked up to, someone who had helped me, someone I had confided in.

The first instance didn't last long, but it felt like an eternity. He touched me places I had never been touched. He asked if I was scared; I said yes. And he said that was okay. After it ended, I walked to my car, drove home slowly, ate dinner, and went to bed. I didn't say anything. I was in shock.

"I was scared that if I said no to him or tried to stop him, everything I’d worked for in cycling would go away. He was powerful and I was like a puppet."

I was scared that if I said no to him or tried to stop him, everything I’d worked for in cycling would go away. That I’d lose the opportunity to be coached, go to races, and find training partners. He was powerful and I was like a puppet.

He told me I wanted this. I was dumbfounded when he said that. How could I have wanted this? He told me not to tell anyone. I was 17.

Missy Erickson rides to victory at the Valley Preferred Cycling Center. Missy Erickson (Taken by Brottom Backet)

The abuse happened a dozen more times before I left for college. The emotional abuse was constant. He was possessive of me, texting and calling and demanding to know where I was. I once went out with a boy in my high school. We went to the local park and sat together on the swings. I got a text from my abuser saying he knew exactly where I was and what I was doing. That really freaked me out.

Eventually, I felt like I was so far into it that there was nowhere to go. I accepted it as my fate and my fault. I accepted that speaking out would cause more problems than good.

I developed an eating disorder. Eating became something I could control in my life, since the rest felt like it was in shambles. I tried to commit suicide twice when I was 18. The first time, as I was trying to slit my wrists, my phone kept ringing and distracting me. It was him calling, and I worried that if I didn’t answer he’d come find me. The second time I couldn't cut deep enough. It hurt. I didn't want any more pain. I just wanted everything to stop. That time, I kept thinking about my little brother and what this would do to him. I am so grateful I failed.

“For so long I believed it was your fault if it happened to you. But it’s not your fault. It’s never your fault.”

I told my abuser I wanted him to stop shortly after I attempted suicide for the first time. I was afraid he would get violent, because he was so angry.

Getting a scholarship to Fort Lewis College in Colorado was like a gift from God. I’d prayed every day that I could get out of my hometown as soon as possible. Even though I moved a day’s drive away, he didn’t stop calling and texting me. My freshman roommate, who had no idea what was going on, heard my phone ringing like crazy and said to me, “You need to get help for that. That’s not normal.”

I went to see a college counselor, and I couldn’t even fill out the form explaining why I was there; I was too scared. I didn’t talk for the first 30 minutes of our appointment. I just sat on her couch and sobbed.

The abuse completely fucked me in terms of being a normal teenager. I withdrew from my friends. Even in college, I pushed men away if they got too close. I shied away from relationships for a long time.

Someone once told me that I have the power of answering the phone or not. And that changed a lot. I didn't go home for holiday breaks, which limited any chance of seeing him. I started talking about what happened, realizing that it wasn't my fault, and taking the blame off myself. The issue was never legally resolved—I just moved on with my life, or at least did so in the best way I could.

Counseling has helped. The second time I hung out with my current boyfriend, the subject of how old we were when we became physically involved as a teen came up. I just said to him, “I was 17, and I was raped.” It caught me off-guard that I was so open about it.

I don’t want to be known as the cyclist who was sexually abused. That’s one reason I didn’t talk about it for so long. If this can help someone, or if it makes someone feel like they can reach out to me for help, then it’s worth it.

I never blamed cycling for what happened. When I rode, it took my mind off life. And the better I got, the more I wanted to win. Winning felt good, and the next thing I knew I was on a World Cup podium and trying to make my first Olympic team.

I think this happens to all sorts of athletes—boys, girls, men, women—but no one talks about it. Growing up, no one talked about this stuff; it was as if it couldn’t happen in my small town where everyone went to church. But we need to talk about it. And we need kids to feel that they can bring this stuff up.

If I could give my 17-year-old self some advice, it would be to get help. Nothing is going to change unless you do. And I’d tell her that what’s happening is not your fault. For so long I believed it was my fault, and that I allowed this to happen. But it’s not your fault. It’s never your fault.

Bicycling is investigating other instances of sexual abuse in cycling. If you or someone you know has experienced physical or emotional abuse from a peer, coach, mechanic, or manager and wish to share your story, please reach out to bicycling@rodale.com.

This content is created and maintained by a third party, and imported onto this page to help users provide their email addresses. You may be able to find more information about this and similar content at piano.io