In a gut-wrenching admission that hits right at the heart of personal struggles, former Scotland rugby star Stuart Hogg has openly confessed to causing harm to others while sharing the deeply personal reasons behind his surprising comeback to the sport. This isn't just about a game—it's a story of redemption, mental health battles, and the tug-of-war between family and fame that could make anyone question their own life choices. But here's where it gets controversial: Is returning to the field after such turmoil a selfish act, or a necessary step toward healing? Stick around, because Hogg's journey reveals layers that might challenge what you think about athletes' priorities.
At 33 years old, Hogg had stepped away from rugby in 2023, wrapping up his time with Exeter Chiefs and opting out of the Rugby World Cup, citing a need for a break. This retirement lasted just one year before he made a stunning return, signing with Montpellier. As he shared in an interview with The Rugby Paper, this comeback wasn't about glory—it was about finding solace amid the wreckage of his marriage breakup. 'I missed the buzz, the changing room, the banter,' he explained with raw honesty. 'I missed rugby more than I ever realized.'
Delving deeper, Hogg revealed that his initial exit from the game was an attempt to salvage his marriage, a decision made during a period of profound confusion. He admitted to being overwhelmed by anti-depressants and turning to alcohol as a coping mechanism, feeling like he was merely going through the motions without truly living. It was a time of emotional numbness, where he couldn't even gauge whether his actions were bringing joy or sorrow to those around him. 'I was purely existing,' he reflected, painting a picture that many can relate to—those dark moments when life feels like it's slipping away.
But here's the part most people miss: A transformative experience turned things around. Participating in the Doddie Weir cycle ride—a charitable event where cyclists ride from Scotland to Rome to raise funds for charity, named after the late rugby player Doddie Weir who battled motor neurone disease—reignited Hogg's sense of belonging. For the first time since retiring, he felt part of a team again, that electric connection that rugby thrives on. 'I came back and told my dad, 'I've made the biggest mistake of my life.'' The camaraderie, the laughter, and that exhilarating buzz were irreplaceable.
Of course, the return isn't without its costs. Hogg now lives in France with Montpellier, which means being physically distant from his children—a painful downside. 'The hope is that they will be able to come out to France and see me,' he said, highlighting the ongoing effort to maintain family ties. Fortunately, recent developments have brought some relief. His divorce was finalized just this week, and a sheriff has relaxed his non-harassment order (a legal measure to prevent unwanted contact, often used in separation cases to protect individuals from harassment), allowing him and his ex-wife to communicate through a co-parenting app. This setup lets them manage child-related matters directly, without needing intermediaries—a step toward healthier interactions.
'Things are improving on that front, which I'm grateful for,' Hogg noted, describing his new life as peaceful. He resides just 20 minutes from Montpellier and a quick five-minute drive from the beach, providing a serene environment that's helping him relax. The team and coaching staff appreciate his presence, perhaps because he's finally valuing himself too. Mentally, he's in a much stronger place than in years past.
Transitioning from selfishness to strength: Hogg once believed that putting himself first was a sign of strength, but he now sees how that mindset led him astray. 'I took that too far. I hurt people,' he admitted candidly. This self-awareness has shifted his approach; he's learning to be selfless for the right reasons—prioritizing his kids, his partner, and his team. While he knows he'll never be the same dynamic player he once was, he's at peace with that evolution. 'I'm living in the now,' he emphasized, rather than fretting about 'life after rugby.' Instead, he just wants to play for as long as his body allows. 'Rugby will always be part of my life—100 per cent.'
And this is where the controversy really heats up: In a world where self-care is preached as essential, Hogg's transformation from a 'selfish' individual who caused pain to one embracing selflessness raises eyebrows. Was his initial retirement a noble sacrifice, or did it reveal deeper issues that rugby helped mask? For instance, some might argue that athletes like Hogg are conditioned to equate personal sacrifice with weakness, potentially exacerbating mental health struggles. Others could counter that returning to a passion like rugby is a valid form of therapy, as long as family foundations are rebuilt. What do you think—does chasing a career comeback ever justify hurting loved ones, even unintentionally? Is there a line between selfishness and self-preservation in high-stakes professions like sports? We'd love to hear your take in the comments—agree, disagree, or share similar stories from your own life!
For more rugby insights, check out stories like why an ex-England player can't get enough of the 'most forceful ball-carrier in the English league,' or the incredible tale of a former Connacht player scoring a try just eight seconds into a match. These tales remind us how unpredictable and thrilling the sport can be.
