For much of the 2021 Tokyo Olympics, the conversation wasn’t about medals or records. It was about one woman stepping back, not stepping up. Simone Biles — the most decorated Olympic gymnastics athlete in history, the face of Team USA, and arguably the most dominant female athlete of her generation — shocked the world when she withdrew from multiple events because of her mental health.
At which point, the script around sport shifted. This was not a story about grinding it out through adversity. It was not one of gritty persistence. It was about when to give in — and being able to have the guts to do it at an international level.
“I have to take care of my mental health.”
The words were spoken quietly, spoken at a post-event news conference after Biles pulled out of the team all-around final. She spoke of being struck by the “twisties”—a” gymnastics glitch in which the brain and body disconnect in flight. “I don’t trust myself as much anymore,” she explained. “Maybe it’s maturing. There were a couple of days where everybody tweets you, and you felt like you’re carrying the world.”
In a sport that requires timing, precision, and courage to be in harmony fractions of a second at a time, the twisties can be lethal. And yet even with an authentic physical danger involved, Biles knew the public would question her decision. In a sense, she was right.
Some media figures called her a quitter. Others questioned whether athletes today were “too soft.” But for every detractor, there were thousands more who saw something revolutionary in her choice: a person at the top of their sport daring to say, “No. I’m not okay.”
Shattering the Mold of the Indestructible Athlete
For decades, athletes have been admired for their toughness. Michael Jordan is playing with the flu. Kerri Strug performing a gymnastics routine on an injured ankle in 1996. Kobe Bryant playing a game with a torn Achilles tendon. Mental toughness, in the old paradigm, was about staying quiet about pain, gritting through fear, and never showing weakness.
Biles shattered that mold. Her decision had a ripple effect not just throughout gymnastics but throughout the world of sports as a whole. Naomi Osaka had opened the door a few months earlier by pulling out of the French Open, citing mental health concerns. Biles blew the door off its hinges.
In the days that followed, fellow athletes — from swimmers to sprinters to skateboarders — voiced their support. Michael Phelps, who has been open about his struggles with depression, called her “a leader” for what she did. “It’s OK to not be OK,” he said in an NBC interview. “We’re human beings. Nobody is perfect.”
The Power of Saying No
Biles’ decision to put her health first wasn’t only for her. It made it okay for others to talk — not only in sport, but in the workplace, at school, and at home. It made it impossible for coaches, institutions, and fans to avoid the uncomfortable truths: that the weight that gets put on athletes, particularly young athletes, is suffocating. That medals are not worth lives. That weakness can be a show of strength.
USA Gymnastics, a federation that was still recovering from the Larry Nassar scandal, released a statement in Biles’ favor, praising her bravery. But there was irony, critics were quick to note. The system had, for decades, failed to protect athletes’ bodies and souls. Now, Biles, a survivor herself, was inheriting that legacy.
A Cultural Tipping Point
The Tokyo Games became a cultural watershed. Sports media, which long had shied away from delving into athletes’ mental well-being, shifted its tone. Coverage of Biles’ withdrawal was initially divided, but ultimately most news organizations focused on the larger discussion about athlete well-being.
Social media was staggering. #MentalHealthMatters and #WeStandWithSimone trended for days. Fans and athletes worldwide retold stories of their own struggles, creating a chorus of solidarity. Without official interviews or press releases, Biles’ social media was her soapbox where she could speak for herself. That control over her own narrative — that ability to say, “This is my story”—was” something that athletes of previous generations rarely had.
What happened in Tokyo was not a mere momentary event. It was a cultural shift. After the games, Biles returned to America not as a failure but as a heroine — not for what she’d done, exactly, but for what she’d not done. She was even given the Presidential Medal of Freedom. She returned to competition in 2023 on her own terms, with the same passion but a clearer vision of who she was outside medals and expectations.
Simone Biles reminded the world that greatness is not just about winning medals and trophies. It’s about knowing yourself, setting boundaries, and leading by example. In the process, she didn’t just redefine what it means to be a champion — she redefined what it means to be a human in sport.