As you know, the Winter Olympics are in full force. While the focus is on times and breaking records, I find myself thinking about how every Olympian carries a story that began long before the cameras arrived. These are stories of their childhood, decisions to push, to pause, to step into the spotlight. The choice to leave behind the life they knew, to abandon the comfort of the shadows to open themselves to not just the scrutiny of the Olympic judges but the judgment of the world as well.  

This year, my word is Permission, and we’re all witnessing it as these athletes live it boldly and without apologies.   

Alysa Liu and Permission to Begin 

Alysa Liu stepped into the spotlight early. As the youngest US women’s national figure skating champion, she landed technically demanding jumps, including triple axels, that many elite skaters never attempt. She competed internationally as a teenager in a sport that judges not only athletic precision but artistry, poise, and emotional performance. 

That is a heavy spotlight for anyone, especially someone so young. She could have waited. She could have taken more time to “grow into” the visibility. Instead, she trained, she competed, and she allowed herself to be seen before she fit anyone’s idea of fully seasoned. 

That’s a kind of permission a lot of people never give themselves, especially in business, sales, or even life: The permission to start before they feel completely ready. 

Many people delay starting because they don’t feel perfectly prepared. They tell themselves they need one more certification, one more year of experience, or one more boost of confidence. But momentum rarely begins with total certainty. It begins with the decision to start … even when you’re still becoming. 

Simone Biles and Permission to Put Yourself First 

Simone Biles is widely considered the greatest gymnast of all time. Her record-breaking medal count alone would have secured her legacy. Yet one of her most defining moments happened when she stepped away from competition. 

During the Tokyo Summer Olympics in 2021, she experienced the “twisties,” a dangerous loss of spatial awareness mid-air. In a sport built on precision, continuing under those conditions could have resulted in serious injury. She made the decision to withdraw … to say “no” to the expectations that were placed upon her and “yes” to her health. 

Simone disrupted a narrative that greatness requires pushing through at any cost. Instead, she modeled something far more nuanced and truly groundbreaking: that strength includes knowing when to stop. She spoke honestly about what she was experiencing. She handled the criticism from the press, and it was heavy. But she did not let that sway her decision to step back. 

What followed was remarkable. Her credibility did not diminish; it deepened. The public didn’t see weakness. They saw integrity. They saw someone listening to her inner voice over the roar of expectation. 

Because people don’t trust perfection. They trust honesty. 

Simone’s ability to be honest and listen to her inner voice, despite the expectations and pressures others were putting on her, allowed her to be true to herself, give her the time to heal, strengthen and come back to become the greatest gymnast of all time. 

Permission is not always about advancing. Sometimes it is about choosing what is best for you, over expectations and applause. 

Katie Ledecky and Permission to Win 

Then there’s Katie Ledecky. She doesn’t merely compete; she dominates. Her races are often won by body lengths rather than inches. Her preparation is disciplined, her strategy precise, and her ambition unmistakable. 

What stands out most is that she has never downplayed her excellence. In a culture that frequently encourages women to soften their confidence or minimize their achievements, Katie doesn’t shrink to accommodate comfort. She competes at the level she has trained for and allows the results to speak clearly. 

Owning your greatness without apology is its own form of courage. In professional settings, many capable people hedge their expertise. They over-credit others and understate their own contributions in the name of humility. Katie’s example reminds us that excellence does not require dilution. It requires ownership. 

Olympic-Sized Permission 

In my new book, The Permission Mission (coming out in March!), I describe permission as an invisible velvet rope. From a distance, it appears impenetrable, as if someone else controls who gets to step through.  

But guess what? 

That rope? It’s not really locked. Never was. 

Alysa stepped in.
Simone stepped back.
Katie went all the way. 

They all chose what they wanted to do about their own velvet rope, and you can, too. You don’t need to be an Olympian to practice that kind of permission. The velvet rope is there. But it’s YOUR velvet rope. 

You just need one thing: Permission. 

  • Permission to start. 
  • Permission to pause. 
  • Permission to choose yourself. 
  • Permission to win and not apologize for it. 

Because the only permission that ever really matters is the one you give yourself. 

And honestly? 

That’s Olympic-sized.