Like many others, I learned that Alysa Liu had ADHD after her captivating, joyful free skate performance at the 2026 Milan-Cortina Winter Olympics that earned her gold.<\/p>\n
Better yet, I learned that she\u2019s really open about her diagnosis. She told ESPN<\/a>: \u201cI have ADHD, and I love situations that I\u2019m not expecting. It gives me a dopamine rush.\u201d<\/p>\n Liu does have a slightly chaotic ADHD vibe. She\u2019s rarely sitting still. She can appear charmingly clueless \u2014 like after her win, when she wandered off, just to be reminded that she needed to go get her medal. She says and does what she wants, even when it seems unexpected or a little silly. She cracks jokes at press conferences. She screamed, \u201cNow that\u2019s what I\u2019m f*ckin\u2019 talking about!\u201d into the camera after her win. (It has since become a meme). She cheers for her fellow skaters.<\/p>\n In short, Liu is everything I was told NOT to be as a neurodivergent athlete myself.<\/p>\n Like Liu, I have ADHD and am a figure skater. Unlike her, I am not an Olympic champion, have never done a quadruple lutz (although I have done a double), and don\u2019t have the guts to color my hair or pierce my frenulum. (I cried when I got my ears pierced.)<\/p>\n [Read: Olympians, Professional Athletes, and Sports Legends with ADHD<\/a>]<\/em><\/p>\n But like Liu, I also had an interesting journey to understanding my ADHD.<\/p>\n Liu got evaluated for ADHD when\u00a0she realized<\/a>\u00a0she had 145 unfinished homework assignments in her final year of high school. She struggled with procrastination<\/a>, and like many of us, needs novelty and challenge to focus.<\/p>\n I was diagnosed at 11, promptly forgot (I didn\u2019t take meds, for various reasons), and was re-diagnosed 20 years later when I erroneously sought diagnosis and treatment for OCD. (A path so many women with ADHD walk).<\/p>\n Like everyone else, I felt the joy when Liu skated at the Olympics. I was perhaps more invested because\u00a0I\u2019d interviewed her<\/a>\u00a0when she first burst on\u00a0the Junior scene\u00a0\u2014 a tiny 13-year-old who had the hopes and dreams of the skating community resting on her petite shoulders.<\/p>\n Her Olympic win is even more impressive when you learn her backstory: she\u00a0retired at 16<\/a>\u00a0after a disappointing sixth-place finish at the 2022 Olympics, took two years off, climbed Mount Everest, and still came back to claim not only Olympic gold but also the World title in 2025.<\/p>\n She quit because she couldn\u2019t stand the pressure anymore. She didn\u2019t like feeling like a\u00a0\u201cpuppet.\u201d<\/a>\u00a0And she really didn\u2019t like not making her own choices about not just her skating, but her life.<\/p>\n Liu came back because she missed the adrenaline rush, and skating again was fun. But with one caveat: everything \u2014 music, costumes, diet, training \u2014 would be on her terms.<\/p>\n And that turned out to be the missing link. By giving herself accommodations and taking control of her life, Liu showed us all what can happen when we choose to do things our way, not the neurotypical way.<\/p>\n Many high-functioning ADHD<\/a> girls and women (perhaps including Liu) never get diagnosed or get diagnosed later in life because they appear to be doing more than fine. They excel in academics. They dominate in sports. They pour themselves into whatever captures their hyperfocus. From the outside, everything looks great. But inside, they\u2019re floundering.<\/p>\n In highly controlled environments \u2014 like elite figure skating \u2014 this can feel even more suffocating. The constant pressure to perform, conform, and comply collides with a brain that craves autonomy and novelty.<\/p>\n There\u2019s also a prevailing narrative in sport that struggle equals growth. That discipline is the price of success. It looks like logging hours on the ice while your mind is quietly collapsing. It\u2019s denying your own wants and needs so you don\u2019t let anyone down.<\/p>\n I lived this. I wasn\u2019t an Olympian, but I was a competitive figure skater for over 20 years. I was surrounded by Olympians who coached and trained alongside me, and I spent years wondering why I couldn\u2019t just commit, work harder, and do what they did. My perfectionism<\/a> made me walk away at 18. Though I returned to the sport, like Liu, and saw moments when I stopped performing neurotypically, I still burned out<\/a> \u2014 a decision my body made for me.<\/p>\n What I admire most about Liu is that she didn\u2019t wait for that. She chose to walk away before it broke her \u2014 and chose to come back only when she could do it on her own terms. She didn\u2019t try to fit back into the old system. She built a new one.<\/p>\n To be fair, Alysa isn\u2019t the only athlete to open up about their mental health. But the way she talks about ADHD \u2014 openly celebrating it \u2014 is refreshing.<\/p>\n In a sport that has historically prized tight control over bodies, speech, and appearance, that\u2019s revelatory. It makes her a figure skating icon for a whole new generation \u2014 one that makes its own rules and celebrates its own individuality.<\/p>\n ADHD brains<\/a> like ours aren\u2019t wired for obligation. We need careers and pursuits that are novel, that bring new challenges, that keep us guessing. That\u2019s why so many athletes, entrepreneurs<\/a>, and creatives are neurodivergent \u2014 we thrive on the unknown.<\/p>\n But when those pursuits become routine, we lose interest fast. It starts feeling like slogging uphill, with burnout at the summit.<\/p>\n This is almost certainly where Liu ended up before her retirement. So she left. And when she came back, she made sure joy came first.<\/p>\n And while most of us will never win an Olympic medal, we can learn from how she got there. We can find ways to accommodate ourselves. We can be honest and authentic instead of performing what we think people want. We can ask for help. We can honor our own process \u2014 the wandering attention, the scattered practices, the FaceTime calls mid-warmup \u2014 and trust that when our energy is ready, it will show up.<\/p>\n The biggest lessons we can learn from Liu: Be yourself. Do what you need to do for you. Follow your interests, because that\u2019s where your success lies. Christie Sausa, MS, is a dual-sport neurodivergent athlete who writes the\u00a0Not Your Average Athlete<\/a>\u00a0blog.<\/em><\/p>\nWhat Alysa Liu\u2019s Burnout Can Teach High-Functioning ADHD Women<\/h2>\n
Alysa Liu Is the Role Model I Didn\u2019t Know I Needed<\/h2>\n
\nMaybe the only thing we need to change is what we lead with.
\nAlysa led with joy. And she won.<\/p>\nAthletes with ADHD: More from ADDitude<\/h2>\n