Why Do Athletes Downplay Concussion Symptoms—and How Can We Change That?
- Alyssa Zajdel, PhD

- Jul 21
- 3 min read

I didn’t tell my coach I felt “off” after my fall. I didn’t say, “Hey, my head hurts and I feel weird.” I didn’t even pause the lesson. I just got up and kept skating.
At the time, it didn’t occur to me that I could have a concussion. I hadn’t hit my head. I wasn’t dizzy or slurring my words. I hadn’t blacked out. All the “classic” symptoms were missing, so I told myself I was probably fine.
I did feel a little “off,” but I assumed it was just anxiety. I’d had a concussion the year before, and I wondered if the fear of having another one was making me overly sensitive to normal feelings. I second-guessed myself instead of saying anything, and I kept skating.
That instinct to downplay? It’s common for many athletes, but it can be risky.
Why Athletes Downplay or Hide Symptoms
Athletes—especially youth and young adults—often delay reporting or outright hide concussion symptoms. Not necessarily because they’re trying to be reckless, but because they’ve learned to prioritize performance, toughness, and not letting people down.
Here are some reasons athletes might minimize symptoms:
They don’t recognize them as symptoms. Headaches, fogginess, or mood shifts can be subtle and easy to misinterpret.
They don’t want to lose playing time. Missing practices, games, or competitions can feel like losing momentum or status.
They’re afraid of disappointing others. Coaches, teammates, or even parents may expect them to “push through.”
They’ve been rewarded for ignoring pain in the past. Athletes who’ve been praised for playing through injuries may assume that’s what’s expected.
They come from environments where being tough is the norm. For some athletes—especially those from historically marginalized backgrounds—rest and vulnerability may not feel safe or culturally supported.
It’s also worth noting: athletes who are perfectionists, high achievers, or people-pleasers may be even more prone to ignoring signs that something’s wrong.
The Problem With “Toughing It Out”
This is where it gets tricky–minimizing symptoms doesn’t make them disappear. In actuality, it usually makes things worse.
Continuing to train, perform, or even study with an untreated concussion can:
Prolong recovery
Increase the risk of re-injury
Impact mental health
Interfere with focus, memory, and emotional regulation
When athletes don’t feel safe naming their symptoms, they may start to blame themselves. For example, they may start to wonder if something is wrong with them, not just with their brain. They might question their mental toughness, get upset with themselves for struggling, or feel ashamed that they’re not “bouncing back.” And because the symptoms are invisible, they often carry that weight alone, pushing through when what they really need is support.
Shifting the Culture: What Needs to Change
If we want athletes to report symptoms, we need to build cultures where their health and well-being are prioritized over their performance. For this to happen, we need consistent modeling, conversations, and actions that communicate to athletes:
Your health matters more than your stats. Make this clear early and often, not just after an injury.
Symptoms are worth listening to, even if they’re subtle. Validate that brain fog, mood changes, or focus issues aren’t “just in your head.”
Rest is a skill, not a weakness. Athletes need to know that stepping back when needed is part of long-term resilience.
You won’t lose trust by speaking up. Make space for honesty without shaming, overreacting, or guilt-tripping.
Parents, coaches, and even teammates all play a role in creating this kind of safety net. It’s not just about knowing the signs—it’s about making it normal, expected, and safe to speak up. That starts with how we respond when someone says, “something feels off.”
Takeaway: Naming Symptoms Takes Strength—Let’s Make It Safer for All Athletes
Concussion symptoms aren’t always obvious. Sometimes they show up as a quiet brain fog, a mood shift, or a sense that something just isn’t right. And when the signs are subtle, athletes are more likely to second-guess themselves, especially in environments where speaking up feels risky.
That’s why it matters how we (e.g., coaches, parents, teammates, support staff) respond—to a pause, a hesitation, a quiet “I don’t feel like myself.” The more we make room for those moments, the easier it becomes for athletes to trust what they’re feeling—and to get the care they need.
Have you ever brushed off symptoms—physical or mental—because you didn’t want to seem weak or make a fuss? What would have helped you feel safe speaking up? If you’re supporting athletes in any role, you play a part in shaping that safety. We’d love to help.
Legal Disclaimer:
This blog post is for informational and educational purposes only and is not a substitute for mental health treatment, psychological services, or medical advice. Reading this post does not create a therapist-client relationship. If you are seeking support for your mental health or well-being, consider reaching out to a licensed mental health professional in your area.



