For a quarter of a century, Keyon Dooling — a self-proclaimed “Macho Man,” an NBA star, a survivor of a rough south Florida neighborhood, a players union leader — kept his secret.
Somewhere, deep within his heart and mind, Dooling buried a torment from his past. As an innocent 7-year-old, he was abused sexually by a teenaged family friend.
He kept the secret from his family, later from his wife. Carrying that weight for 25 years took a dreadful toll. As a pre-teen, he started carrying a knife for protection. He drank. He smoked. Above all, he kept quiet.
“I was embarrassed about it, so I literally pushed it so far down in my mind it really didn’t exist to me. [Carrying the secret] was a lot harder than I gave it credit for,” said Dooling, now 34. “I didn’t even self-evaluate until I got away from ball and got into a mental institution and found the healing I needed. I needed basic, traditional therapy.”
Dooling, who spent two seasons with the Nets, throughout his silence presented the perfect picture of an NBA player: smart, sharply dressed, smiling, accommodating to the media. In the summer of 2012, after his 12th NBA season, it all exploded.
Dooling’s breakdown after a confrontation in the restroom of a Seattle restaurant, where he believed a customer made inappropriate advances, led to his temporary commitment to a mental hospital in Boston.
“I didn’t think things that happened in my life could come back and haunt me,” said Dooling, who had just finished a run to the Eastern Conference Finals with the Celtics and then was in a mental ward, over-medicated, paranoid, hallucinating.
“The bottom floor,” Dooling said.
But it began his rise to the top again.
Doc Rivers, then the Celtics coach, gave invaluable assistance. But the trigger to turning his life around was admitting his secret to his wife, Natosha.
“It was like the weight of the world was off my shoulders. What I didn’t realize is I had more weight to get off,” Dooling said. “In doing that, I was able to go to a different level of healing.”
That is Dooling’s message. He wants to help others, not just children who have suffered sexual abuse, but adults who have buried the pain and the memories, burying their lives along with their secrets.
He has set up RespectFoundation55.org with its multi-tiered website to offer help. There are national, regional, local hotlines for support groups of sexual abuse victims. Dooling goes on speaking engagements, has told his story on national TV. He targets kids – but offers support to all ages.
“It’s a wide range, because sexual abuse happens so frequently in our younger days, but what I’m finding as I go out more and more is we’re dealing with adults who don’t know how to embrace what I’ve been able to do,” Dooling said. “I want to let them know there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I believe you have to seek healing through mental wellness, therapy, support.”
He has been spreading the word, did so especially in April, Sexual Abuse Awareness Month. And he is preparing for the mid-June publication of his book, “What’s Driving You? How I Overcame Abuse and Learned to Lead in the NBA.” It comes with artwork from an abuse victim and music from an award-winning producer. Dooling is big on the arts as a form of healing.
In the book, Dooling recounts growing up through the good, the bad and the turbulence in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. He tells about his standout high school and college careers leading to his being the 10th pick in the 2000 NBA Draft – usually with his father, Leroy, encouraging him to shoot. Dooling described his dad’s death to prostate cancer in 2009 as “catastrophic.”
He credits those who helped him hone leadership skills, such as Pat Riley in Miami and Rivers and Celtics president of basketball operations Danny Ainge in Boston. He relates how he emerged as a leader by mentoring young point guards, such as Boston’s Rajon Rondo. The leadership path has served him well.
But then came, as Dooling put it, “a descent into Hell.”
“Doc Rivers used to tell us, ‘If you want to go quick, go by yourself, but if you want to go far, we’ve all got to go together,’ ” Dooling said. “I want to help people’s lives, impact people’s lives and give them this recipe for healing.”
Dooling preaches prevention, teaching children the difference between appropriate and inappropriate touches. There are healing mechanisms for those victimized who must deal with the inevitable guilt factor.
“I use my own experiences. I was confused. It was easier for me to suffer in silence at that age,” Dooling said, noting troubling signs that followed for so long. “Anxiety, sexual dysfunction, anger outbursts, post-traumatic stress disorder. But the core problem was I had been violated and it had gone untreated.
“I didn’t even know what post-traumatic stress was. I didn’t know it could happen to me. I had it together. I had a million dollar contract, was really respected, adored in my job.”
The Seattle incident brought everything to the surface.
“I got so much productive help from therapy. I got to deal with being molested. I got to deal with all the traumatic experiences and got the tools I needed,” Dooling said. “A big part of my foundation is increasing mental wellness so people can go out and get therapy because I believe therapy is the true gateway to healing.”