02/20/2026
By now you probably know Alysa Liu won Olympic gold last night—the first American woman since 2002 to do it.
Everyone’s talking about her impressive comeback story…but I can’t stop thinking about what came before it.
Alysa was a bona fide skating prodigy: National champion at 13 (and 14!). World bronze medalist at 15. Olympian at 16. Graceful and powerful and bursting with talent.
She was the kind of young athlete adults get excited about and build futures around.
But after the Beijing Olympics (where she placed sixth), just when the world expected her to double down—she walked away.
Not because she couldn’t do it. Clearly, she could. She had.
But she was tired of having her life decided for her.
So she retired. She went on her first real vacation. Enrolled in college. Spent time with friends. And probably for the first time in her memory, she wasn’t skating.
Then on a ski trip a couple of years ago, she felt that familiar rush of adrenaline while flying down a snow-covered hill. And she wondered…could she find that on the ice, on her own terms?
So she came out of retirement. But this time, it was different.
She was different.
She decided what she wore. What she ate. What songs she skated to.
And she won.
First, the World Championships in 2025.
Then this week, Olympic gold in Milan.
If you’ve ever raised a teenager, Alysa’s story might make you a little uncomfortable.
Because a lot of us raise high achievers. Talented kids. Responsible kids. The kind of kids other people notice, and expect great things from.
And when you’re parenting that kind of child, pressure can be sneaky.
You don’t want them to waste their potential.
So when your teen says, “I don’t know if I want to do this anymore,” it almost feels personal.
It feels like scholarships and opportunities and years of investment hanging in the balance.
But Alysa Liu is a gentle reminder that it’s not about us.
There’s a difference between teaching our teens grit and teaching them to ignore their own hearts.
And I don’t want my kids to win at something and lose themselves in the process.
What I pray is they find the Alysa Liu inside.
To know they can step back.
To know they can choose.
To know their worth isn’t tied to achievement.
Because what the world saw in Milan wasn’t just talent—it was joy.
A young woman floating across the ice with a smile that said, “I’m here because I want to be.”
That’s the kind of win I want for my kids.
Well done, Alysa.
-Her View From Home