The competitive gymnastics community is a small one.
After the Weekend Herald's splash detailing alleged abuse at one of the country's most prestigious programmes, it has got a lot louder.
Several past and present gymnasts have reached out over the weekend, all with stories that were at the very least troubling, at the worst permanently damaging.
All the claims followed a similar arc: young girls who loved the sport but then watched as first their dreams were crushed, followed quickly by their enjoyment. All carry the psychological hangover of being made to feel worthless by people supposedly entrusted to bring out the best in you.
There was dissent. Lara Meyer wrote from Australia to say that it was the responsibility of parents to "ensure their children are not training if they are unwell or injured". Her son had spent years in the North Harbour programme and had benefited immeasurably from it.
"Those exceptional coaches are not trained educators, nor are they psychologists; they are former elite athletes who are paid to provide training in gymnastics. Parents need to get real," she continued.
"My son said that whilst trainings were often rigorous and feedback could be robust and sometimes challenging, it was not abusive. Ever!"
Other parents have a markedly different view.
Glassy-eyed parents have spoken to me about what they perceive as their own failures to "recognise and remove". But if you think it's easy, read the accompanying piece by a father of an elite gymnast damaged by her involvement in the sport. Tell us you'd do anything different.
Some of these young women wouldn't mind being identified, you suspect, they just don't want to be the first. This is understandable. Most of those spoken to or corresponded with are still not eligible to vote. One was preparing for an important school exam, but had been struggling to concentrate on studying since Saturday morning.
Most, but not all, were former members of North Harbour Gymnastics.
Like Angie*, who only recently gave the sport away. She has had time to reflect on the culture of gymnastics and has reached the conclusion it was highly damaging.
She started recreational gym when she was three and was selected for the competitive programme when she turned five. She loved it, won a bunch of medals but more than that it was the time spent with friends and the mastering of new skills that gave her a sense of accomplishment.
For Angie, her relationship with the sport started to change at around eight or nine, when the skills started to get more complex.
"That's when [the coach] started screaming at me," she claims. "I'd never be sure what prompted it but it was probably not being able to perform a skill they expected me to, or perhaps being reluctant to get straight back on with it again after falling.
"It was tough. It's hard to get back up and try again if you know you're going to get yelled at for failing."
At other times, Angie would have done anything to be yelled at. This is the twisted psychology of sport.
"Some training sessions [the coach] would just ignore me for hours."
This would extend to "spotting" on apparatus. Without a spotter, you couldn't participate so Angie would just trail the rest of the group around without being able to join in.
"That was even worse. You look back now and realise that's just not a normal way for an adult to deal with a child.
"[The coach] speaks to the other gymnasts but not you. I'm meant to guess what I've done wrong but there are times I genuinely have no idea what that is."
Angie got to 11 when she finally melted. Her mum took her to training but as she was getting changed she started crying and could not stop. She couldn't function. She could not articulate why back then but realises now she just didn't want to be around the coach.
She was on the verge of stopping but another coach reached out to her and she continued under new direction. The fun mostly returned, but it was never the same.
She'd invent stomach issues and ankle pain – anything to get out of going to the gym.
She couldn't totally avoid the old coach, the one she claims who had constantly told her she "wasn't trying", even though every day she turned up determined to do her best.
The one who had allegedly walked up to the judges during a mock competition and told them loudly enough so Angie could hear not to bother "judging this one because she'll get a zero", a statement no doubt designed to motivate her but that instead crushed her spirit.
"This is not a new thing," said Helen*. "It was going on the whole time I was a competitive gymnast from 2006 to 2015."
Helen said she witnessed her teammates being verbally abused and while she wasn't on the receiving end of tirades, her personal confidence was more subtly chipped away at.
"I was tall for a kid. I was ridiculed for my height and written off because I was too tall."
Helen stuck at it though. She worked through the levels despite the indifference of her coaches but suffered a setback when she broke her ankle (not while doing gymnastics). It didn't heal well and the rehab was grueling. It caused issues in her back.
When she came back she was, understandably, not performing at her best.
"I was just ignored. No one spoke to me. I never got another opportunity. I was put in a level well below where I had been."
This, she said, hurt more than the pain from her injuries. She'd given eight years to the sport and was never given a chance to show she could get back to her best. Rather than spend hours working alongside girls several rungs below her ability, she quit.
"I didn't leave on good terms," she said.
Helen said she was moved to read that abuse in the sport was finally being addressed.
"It can't have been easy to speak out. I just wanted to let them know they aren't alone."
Angie agrees. The constant belittling found a permanent lodging in her psyche.
She is out of gymnastics now and is trying a new sport that also requires complex and demanding physical skills.
She fails a lot.
When she stuffs up, she immediately hears it: "You're useless; you're not trying hard enough".
Except it's not her coach who's screaming at her; it's the voice in her head she can't get rid of.
Letter to members
The board of North Harbour Gymnastics met on Saturday afternoon and is in the process of drafting a response to all members. They have chosen not to issue a formal response to the Herald at this stage.
The wash-up was not all negative. At least one Auckland club used the story as a teaching moment. As everybody gathered for Saturday morning training the coaches gathered all the athletes together to talk about the story.
They explained in unflinching detail what they had gone through in elite gymnast programmes.
"I could see that without proper education and support it would be easy for these coaches to behave based on what they had experienced and know, especially when pressure is applied by clubs and parents to perform," said a parent who was present.
He came away impressed, saying he was optimistic that a younger generation of coaches is determined to avoid the obvious ills of the past.
* Names have been changed on request.