1) What does it mean to you to be a role model, both externally and internally? Do you consider these roles to be distinct?
For me, being a role model has never been about standing on podiums or collecting titles. On the surface, it meant showing people what commitment, resilience, and perseverance look like—especially in the face of setbacks. In sports and business, people see the results, but I’ve always hoped they’d also see the years of hard work and the setbacks along the way.
On a personal level, within my family, being a role model feels more personal. It’s about being there, being kind, and living according to the values I publicly espouse. I think there’s a difference between the two spheres, but I don’t think they’re separate identities. At their core, they stem from the same place: integrity. Whether people are watching you from the sidelines or sitting around your kitchen table, you want your actions to match your words.
2) You chose to focus on your career first and have children later. What helped you stay confident in your own timing?
Competitive sports quickly teach you that timing has to work for your own journey, not for anyone else’s. I spent years pursuing goals that required total dedication and commitment. I realized that if I wanted to reach my full potential, I had to give myself permission to do so.
Of course, there are social and family expectations, and even your own internal pressures. But I’ve learned that comparing yourself to others is dangerous. I had already built a career by doing things differently. I competed in a sport where longevity wasn’t always expected, especially for women. I was confident that there isn’t just one single timeline for life. My self-confidence came from knowing that I was making decisions based on what felt right to me, not on what seemed right in the eyes of others.
3) Once you became a mother, what belief about motherhood and leadership did you have to unlearn?
I had to unlearn the idea that being a leader means always being strong, always having the answers, and always being in control.
As an athlete, I used to push through discomfort and hold myself to incredibly high standards. Motherhood teaches something very different. It teaches flexibility, vulnerability, and patience. I’ve realized that leadership isn’t about perfection—it’s about authenticity. Sometimes, strength means admitting when you’re tired or asking for help.
4) What do you think of the idea that “you can’t have it all”?
I think we need to redefine what it means to “have it all.” If “having it all” means doing everything perfectly, all at the same time, without sacrifice, then no, nobody has that. Men don’t. Women don’t.
But if that means creating a life that is meaningful and aligned with your values, then yes, I think you absolutely can. Different stages of life call for different priorities. During some periods, my sport came first. In others, family took priority. Success isn’t about achieving perfect balance every single day—it’s about understanding that life moves in seasons.
Women face a lot of pressure around this idea, and I’d rather see us replace guilt with self-permission—permitting ourselves to define what success means to us.
5) As a mother, entrepreneur, and leader, how do you find fulfillment today? What makes the biggest difference?
A sense of accomplishment today is different from what it was during my competitive years. Winning medals gave me an incredible rush, but those moments were fleeting. True fulfillment comes from the impact and the connection.
I find meaning in sharing experiences, mentoring others, helping people build resilience, and spending time with my family. The biggest difference now is perspective. I’ve learned that success alone isn’t enough. Fulfillment comes from knowing why you do something and ensuring that success in one area of life doesn’t come at the expense of everything else. Ultimately, the moments that stay with you are rarely the medals. They’re the people.
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