So Alysa Liu won Olympic gold. At 20 years old, she’s standing on that podium, medal around her neck, and the internet is losing its shit calling her “resilient.”

And look I get it. The comeback story is irresistible. The narrative practically writes itself: young skater leaves the sport at 16. Walks away from everything. Then comes back four years later and dominates on the world’s biggest stage.

Resilient as hell, right?

Except here’s what that word is covering up:

At 16, Alysa Liu didn’t just “take a break” from skating. She left because the system was destroying her. She was being controlled. Starved. Silenced. The thing she loved had become a prison, and the people who were supposed to support her were treating her like a performing asset instead of a human being.

So she walked away to save herself. Now that she’s back. On HER terms, in HER body, with HER voice…aaaaand we’re calling her resilient? I’m sorry, but what the actual f*ck?

We need to talk about why we keep calling it resilience

Resilience means you absorbed the damage and kept going. We hand women that word like it’s a freakin’ trophy. Like surviving a system that tried to consume you is the achievement.

It’s not, sis.

It’s the indictment. We are so conditioned to celebrate the comeback that we never stop to ask: Why did she have to leave in the first place? Who starved her? Who stripped her choices? Who turned something she loved into a prison? And why the hell are we giving her the medal for surviving it instead of burning down the system that broke her?

The problem with “resilience”

In my opinion…resilience has become the most elegant way to make women complicit in their own disappearance. Push through. Prove yourself. Earn your place. Bounce back. It’s all the same instruction:

Keep performing. Keep shrinking. And smile while you do it.

We celebrate women who endure. Who adapt. Who make it work no matter what gets stripped away from them. Their autonomy. Their voice. Their body. Their identity. Their choices. And then we call them “resilient” when they survive it. Like that’s the win. Babe, that’s not the win. That’s the problem!

What Alysa Liu actually did

Alysa didn’t win because she was resilient.

She won because she finally refused.

Refused to be starved. Refused to be controlled. Refused to perform for people who saw her as a vehicle for their agenda. That’s not resilience. That’s a whole ass revolt. That’s choosing herself. That’s drawing a line. That’s saying “I’m done letting you destroy me in the name of excellence.”

And THAT is what we should be celebrating. Not her ability to bounce back. Not her ability to endure. Her refusal to keep enduring.

I want you to look at your own life right now.

What are you calling “pushing through” that’s actually slowly hollowing you out? What are you calling “strength” that’s actually just survival? What have you been enduring so long you forgot you had the option to refuse? The job that drains you. The relationship that diminishes you. The family dynamics that demand you shrink. The expectations that require you to perform.

How long have you been calling that “resilience”?

How long have you been wearing your exhaustion like a badge of honor? “I can handle it. I’m strong. I’m resilient.” That’s not strength. That’s Stockholm syndrome with your own life.

The Fierce Truth

Real strength isn’t pushing through. Real strength is knowing when to refuse. Real strength is walking away from what’s killing you—even when everyone’s telling you to be grateful, to stick it out, to prove you can handle it. Real strength is choosing yourself over their comfort. Over their expectations. Over their definition of success.

That’s not resilience. That’s revolution. And it’s time we stopped celebrating women for surviving systems that shouldn’t exist in the first place.