EDITOR'S NOTE: This story was originally published in the February issue of GCU Magazine, available in the purple bins on campus or digitally. "My LopeLife" is a feature in which GCU students, staff and alumni share enlightening experiences. To be considered for My LopeLife, please email a synopsis of your suggested topic to [email protected] with “My LopeLife” in the subject field.
Story by Daria Shlapak
I was born in Kyiv, Ukraine, a city that taught me early on how quickly life can change.
Ukraine is a deeply collectivistic culture, where family and community shape who you become long before you choose it for yourself.
Most of my childhood, my world revolved around two things: my family and rhythmic gymnastics. I never imagined losing one would help me rediscover the other and ultimately lead me across continents to Grand Canyon University and God.
I started rhythmic gymnastics at age 5. What began as an outlet for an overly energetic child quickly became my life.
For more than a decade, my days followed the same rhythm: school, lunch in the car, hours of training, homework late at night, sleep, repeat. While other kids played outside, I trained until 8 or 9 p.m.
That discipline shaped me, but it also narrowed my world. Gymnastics wasn’t just something I did – it was who I was.
In the summer of 2020, I was selected to attend a camp with the Ukrainian National Team. On the final day, I was chosen for the junior national team. It was supposed to be the moment of every athlete’s dreams.
Instead, I cried all night. I was exhausted, burned out and terrified. Joining the national team meant choosing between school and the sport that already had consumed most of my life. I chose gymnastics and lost a year of school trying to survive both.
Then in April 2021, everything stopped.
I suffered a concussion and a minor spinal fracture. Like many athletes, I was told to push through. I did, until I couldn’t anymore because of the pain.
On Aug. 27, 2021, I officially ended my gymnastics career. I was 14 years old and lost. I had dedicated two-thirds of my life to something that no longer existed, and I had no idea who I was without it.
Six months later, Russia invaded Ukraine.
My brother and I temporarily moved into a small apartment with our grandparents on the western side of Ukraine. Life became smaller, heavier and more urgent. In that confined space, I grew up quickly.
I began learning English seriously, not for school, but for the possibility. When we returned to Kyiv, I volunteered as a rhythmic gymnastics coach and tried to rebuild something meaningful from what remained.
That rebuilding found direction when I joined the European Youth Parliament Ukraine. What started as curiosity became purpose. I traveled across Europe, debated policy, chaired committees, organized conferences and served as a head organizer.
For the first time since quitting gymnastics, I felt useful again. I discovered my love for leadership, event planning and creating spaces where people feel seen and connected.
At the same time, I committed to applying to universities in the United States. I recorded a TED Talk about learning to be alone – how, during my loneliest moments, I became my own best friend.
I worked relentlessly to improve my English from beginning to advanced in two years, despite being told it was unrealistic.
In late 2023, I submitted all my applications and waited.
The rejections hurt more than I expected. I had gambled everything on studying abroad, and suddenly it felt like I had lost. I was accepted to several universities, but none were financially feasible. I felt broken – until a friend of my mom mentioned GCU.
At first, I dismissed it. I was aiming for Ivy League schools, loved big cities and wasn’t Christian. Arizona wasn’t even on my radar. Still, I looked it up, and something shifted.
When I visited the campus (online), I felt peace for the first time in months. I applied, was accepted quickly and received a great scholarship. Light finally broke through.
Saying goodbye to my family and boarding a bus to Poland felt surreal. Nearly three days of travel later, I arrived in Phoenix on Aug. 25, 2024.
Slowly I came to understand that the painful detours of my life weren't punishments, they were preparation.
Daria Shlapak, sophomore business management major
Almost exactly three years after quitting gymnastics, I met my best friend, Dakota. Through her, I came to see faith not as an idea but as a relationship. Slowly, I came to understand that the painful detours of my life weren’t punishments – they were preparation. My faith didn’t erase my past, but it finally gave it meaning.
At GCU, I found a community that allowed me to grow without shrinking myself. I joined the Professional, Academic and Career Development program in the Honors College and TEDxGrandCanyonUniversity. I work on campus, serve in Multicultural Life and continue developing my leadership skills.
I recently changed my major to business management with a minor in communications, aligning my studies with my goal of becoming a corporate event planner and working in nonprofit organizations focused on children.
Life here is busy, imperfect and deeply formative. I’m learning how to be an adult, sometimes clumsily. I earned my driver’s license, juggle responsibilities and navigate independence far from home. Yet I would choose this path again, without hesitation.
GCU didn’t just give me an education. It gave me context. It taught me that identity isn’t something you lose when one chapter ends. It’s something you carry forward, reshaped by every turn. I no longer measure my worth by medals or perfection. I measure it by purpose, growth and trust.
Looking back, I finally understand why I am here and why I had to experience some of the most painful things that led me to the right place. For the first time, I’m excited, not anxious, about what comes next.
