Leaping from platforms as high as 27 metres requires not only flawless physical preparation but also the management of an invisible yet decisive factor: fear. Canadian Molly Carlson, a two-time World Championships silver medallist in high diving, highlights how this emotion is inseparable from competition under the governance of the International Swimming Federation –World Aquatics–.
The athlete herself admitted: “When my mental health is at its lowest, I don’t perform well. This year my anxiety was really, really high, and I finished ninth at the World Championships because I slipped off the platform. It was a really scary summer.”
Carlson, who began her career in Olympic trampoline and later transitioned to the 20-metre platform in Montreal, has often explained that “fear never goes away; it transforms into energy to stay focused and give your best.” Her experience illustrates the reality of a sport where the line between personal achievement and physical risk is thinner than in many other aquatic disciplines.
Fear, falls and recovery: episodes that shape a career
In Polignano a Mare, one of the classic stops on the international circuit, Carlson suffered an accident she described as “the scariest day of my life.” A slip from 22 metres reduced her planned rotation and turned the dive into a traumatic experience, which she chose to share publicly with her followers. The incident demonstrates how errors in this discipline can have deep physical and emotional consequences, and how recovery depends not only on physical rehabilitation but also on the ability to face the platform again.
Australian diver Rhiannan Iffland, a five-time world champion, has confessed that “I feel fear every time I climb onto the platform,” although she uses it as fuel to stay sharp. Her ability to channel anxiety into a positive component of her performance has been central to a career of sustained excellence, even after suffering severe injuries to her groin and knees following highly difficult dives.
The value of shared fear within a community
Iffland has also admitted that, on more than one occasion, just before jumping she asks herself: “What am I doing up here again?” Yet she describes that moment as part of an addiction to pushing boundaries and turning vertigo into motivation. Her testimony underlines that even the most dominant athletes feel fear, but interpret it as a travelling companion that strengthens mental discipline.
Fear in high diving is not limited to individual experience. Through her digital community ‘BraveGang’, Carlson has raised awareness of how anxiety, vulnerability and pressure are daily realities for athletes. With more than six million followers on social media, her initiative conveys a clear message: shared fear can become a source of collective support.
Lessons that transcend the platform
Canadian diver Linda Cuthbert, a specialist in the trampoline event, suffered a concussion after hitting her head on the board during a dive, an accident that led her to avoid repeating that routine for some time. Her case, although from a different discipline, illustrates how a traumatic experience can affect an athlete’s confidence and approach to competition.
Beyond these individual stories, the history of high diving includes extreme episodes: Randy Dickison, who suffered multiple fractures after a 53-metre jump; Olivier Favre, who broke his spine after attempting 54; or Sergei Chalibashvili, who died in 1983 after hitting the platform. In addition, common injuries such as concussions, ankle sprains and cervical trauma underline the inherent risk. This context shows that when an accident occurs in high diving, the fear of returning is not only logical but that stepping onto the platform again is an extraordinary act of courage.
Carlson’s debut in high diving in Saint-Raphaël in 2021 offers another perspective on the relationship between fear and self-acceptance. The athlete recalls that it was then she left behind years of body image struggles and discovered in this sport a space to reconcile with herself.
