Now an author and the founder of K. Savannah Consulting, Brim works with organizations to foster collaboration in diverse workplaces. She\u2019s also the founder of coaching and mentoring program Out of Bounds, where Brim draws on her own experience to help others navigate life\u2019s in-between stages. In a November 2025 talk at TEDxBuffalo, adapted here, Brim asked listeners to reconsider what it means to go \u201cout of bounds\u201d \u2014 not as a mistake, she says, but as a first step in reclaiming your true identity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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I lost 120 pounds. That\u2019s something many people can\u2019t say, but I can. And although I am proud of that accomplishment, I recognized I should have never reached that point in the first place.
You see, I was a Division I basketball player. I knew what it meant to be at the pinnacle of physical fitness, push past my limits, run miles in record times, lift heavy weights, and win close games. I lived and breathed mental grit \u2014 it was my life for more than 15 years. But in 2011, when the lights went dim, all of that grit disappeared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I graduated college at 20 years old. Basketball prepared me for the physical battles of life, but nothing prepared me for the emotional and mental toll I would experience in the absence of adrenaline.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I slipped into the monotony of 9 to 5, thinking that was the right next step. I chased a picture-perfect life: a husband, a family, a home with kids running around the backyard enclosed in a white picket fence. And that failed. I clung to external goals, but nothing gave me the high I had once known. Instead, I faded into the background. I found comfort in food to numb the emptiness inside. And I gained 120 pounds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But this talk is not about weight. It\u2019s about what we carry to be a certain way. It\u2019s about the pressure of expectations, old dreams, and trying to figure out who we\u2019re meant to be. It\u2019s about the feelings that stay hidden, but hit hard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Let me take you back to my last day on the court. The echo of basketballs bouncing, sneakers slicing through the hardwood, the smell of sweat and resin in the air, and my coach barking one last set of plays from the sideline. My jersey clung to my skin in effort, adrenaline, and legacy \u2014 the growth, discipline, and identity created from the moment I first picked up a basketball. The buzzer sounded, and just like that, it was over. The arena faded, the roar quieted, and the rhythm of my life \u2014 the constant pulse of competition and comradery \u2014 flatlined. I didn\u2019t realize it at the time, but that day not only marked the end of my basketball career, it also marked the end of an identity. I was no longer the athlete \u2014 I was just me. And I didn\u2019t know who me<\/em> was anymore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The wake-up call came years later, when I was standing in a store\u2019s dressing room under those brutally honest lights, trying to force a dress over my body \u2014 not just because of its size, but because of how disconnected I felt from the person in the mirror. I couldn\u2019t hear the arena, couldn\u2019t feel the fire, couldn\u2019t smell the sweat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I felt so heavy \u2014 mentally, emotionally, and physically. I hadn\u2019t just changed, I had lost myself in the transition. I lost my confidence. I lost my discipline. I lost my voice. I lost my joy. And I lost the belief that I could be anything other than who I once was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We don\u2019t often talk about the in-between: the time when one chapter closes and the next one begins. We talk about wins and losses, but we rarely talk about the pause in between the buzzer and the next tip-off. That\u2019s when life gets real.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I didn\u2019t wake up one day and say, \u201cI\u2019ll lose 120 pounds and start a business.\u201d It started with tiny, unglamorous decisions. Go for a walk. Drink water. Say no to the voice that says you\u2019re not done<\/em>. It\u2019s like returning to the gym after an injury \u2014 weak, wobbly, and unsure, but doing it anyway. The phrase \u201cout of bounds\u201d used to sting. In basketball it signals a misstep. You made a mistake, you messed up. The play ends and the ball goes to the other team. When I stepped out of bounds, I didn\u2019t just step out physically, but also existentially. I wasn\u2019t out of play, I was out of purpose<\/em>. But one thing I realized is that \u201cout of bounds\u201d is not the end. It\u2019s just a reset. It\u2019s where strategy gets reimagined. It\u2019s where you recenter yourself, take a deep breath, and get ready for your next play. Not because the whistle forces you to, but because you are ready.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I wasn\u2019t alone in needing that space. Let\u2019s talk about what happens to athletes, specifically women, after college. Only 1.2% of NCAA women\u2019s basketball players go on to play professionally in the WNBA or overseas. That means 98.8% of women feel a sudden shift in identity or routine right after college.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A Boston University study found that many athletes face \u201cidentity foreclosure,\u201d where their sense of self is so tied to being an athlete that once it ends, they don\u2019t know who they are anymore. The NCAA\u2019s own mental health survey found that 47% of female athletes reported feeling overwhelmed, and 35% said they felt mentally exhausted on a regular basis. These stats are not just about athletics; they are about the mental toll behind the game.<\/p>\n\n\n\n While my story started with athletics, Out of Bounds is so much more than basketball. I\u2019ve worked with student-athletes who are searching for a road map, helping them avoid the same pitfalls I faced when I graduated and was unprepared for what came next. I\u2019ve worked with adults in transition; those who are laid off or burnt out or quietly questioning whether the life they built still suits the person they\u2019ve become. Through mentoring, coaching, and one-on-one sessions, the same three core questions always arise, regardless of age or background: Who am I now? What comes next? How do I move forward when everything I know no longer applies?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n I created Out of Bounds to be a guided transformational space to reflect without judgment. It\u2019s a space to reclaim your voice, even if it\u2019s shaky. It\u2019s a space to redefine success on your own terms \u2014 not based off of someone else\u2019s scoreboard. And it\u2019s a space to redefine your identity based on truth and not rooted in titles or r\u00e9sum\u00e9s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Many times when we think of transformation \u2014 whether it\u2019s mental, physical, or emotional \u2014 we often think that it has to happen in isolation. But the truth is, it doesn\u2019t. Sure, I had to dig deep, but it was the people around me who helped me through the experience. It was my mentors who shared their stories; it was my friends and family who lifted me up when I was down; and it was the people who were experiencing the same things I was. Transformation does not happen in isolation. It happens in community.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At my gym, we often say, \u201cbe where your feet are planted.\u201d That means show up for yourself, even if you\u2019re unsure, because there\u2019s beauty in the process \u2014 not just at the finish line.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So no, this talk is not about weight. It\u2019s about releasing setbacks, disappointments, and failures. It\u2019s about redefining success, and it\u2019s about realizing, maybe for the first time, that stepping out of bounds is not the end of the game. It\u2019s just a new quarter.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Kendra Brim ’11 is helping fellow former athletes navigate life after sports.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1263,"featured_media":25060,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_hide_featured_image":false,"_jetpack_featured_image_duplicate_dismissed":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[23],"tags":[815,41,3749],"coauthors":[135],"class_list":["post-25048","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-voices","tag-athlete","tag-basketball","tag-tedtalk"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/palXSH-6w0","amp_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/news.colgate.edu\/magazine\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/6\/2026\/05\/Kendra-Brim-Colgate-8_v2.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/news.colgate.edu\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25048","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/news.colgate.edu\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/news.colgate.edu\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/news.colgate.edu\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1263"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/news.colgate.edu\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=25048"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/news.colgate.edu\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25048\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":25857,"href":"https:\/\/news.colgate.edu\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25048\/revisions\/25857"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/news.colgate.edu\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/25060"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/news.colgate.edu\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=25048"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/news.colgate.edu\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=25048"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/news.colgate.edu\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=25048"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/news.colgate.edu\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=25048"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
That day not only marked the end of my basketball career, it also marked the end of an identity. I was no longer the athlete \u2014 I was just me<\/em>.<\/p><\/blockquote><\/figure>\n\n\n\n![\"Kendra](\"https:\/\/news.colgate.edu\/magazine\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/6\/2026\/05\/Brim-2009_v1.jpg\")
A 5’11” forward, Brim ended her collegiate career in 2011 with a total of 325 points.<\/strong><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n
Here are three truths I learned about reclaiming who you are.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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Basketball was my first love. But loving something and living in the shadows are two different things. You can love something that shaped you without being trapped by it. At some point, I had to stop identifying myself by a chapter I had already closed.<\/li>\n\n\n\n
We live in a culture obsessed with before-and-after photos. But transition happens in the middle. It happens when you show up for yourself, give yourself grace, and keep going.<\/li>\n\n\n\n
I had to mourn the person I thought I would become at an early age \u2014 the wife, the mother, the athlete \u2014 in order to fully embrace the person I was meant to be.
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Brim speaks at leadership and corporate workshops, specializing in inclusivity.<\/strong><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n