Jordan Chiles has never fit the traditional mould of an elite gymnast—and she knows it. From struggling without a coach in her early years to being overlooked for major teams, she has faced setbacks that could have ended her career. Instead, she pushed through, becoming an Olympic Gold medalist and a key figure in NCAA gymnastics. Now, as she revisits the challenges that shaped her, she has something to say to the gymnastics community.

Speaking on the Casuals with Katie Nolan podcast on March 7, Chiles opened up about the challenges she faced and how she refused to conform to expectations. “I was the black sheep of everything,” she said. “People didn’t expect me to get a medal. People didn’t expect me to be that good.” Despite the skepticism, she stayed true to herself, embracing her unique style, from her floor routines to her music choices. “I’m the one painting the picture. I’m the one who’s constantly on the floor. Why can’t you guys accept the fact that that’s me?” she asked. “Why do I have to be somebody else?” Through every challenge, criticism, and moment of doubt, Chiles remained unapologetically herself. “I was always trying to be a better version of myself each and every day,” she said. “Whether I did get teared down, whether I did get, you know, shown something totally different, whether people didn’t like the way I danced or the way I chose my music or my hair or something like that.”

Chiles has been candid about the discrimination she faced, recalling moments when she was made to feel like she didn’t belong. One incident that stuck with her was when a woman in the crowd at a competition questioned her place on the floor. “She doesn’t deserve to be on the floor,” the woman said. “She doesn’t even look like anybody else.”, Chiles said to Vogue last year.

But now, Chiles has learned to embrace the label she once resisted. Rather than seeing it as a limitation, she now views it as a source of strength. “If I’m still the black sheep, I will continue to be the black sheep, because it has done me wonders,” Chiles declared on Katie Nolan’s podcast. “It has done me a million different things that I can stand right here, right now, and say, you are the reason why Jordan Chiles is Jordan Chiles.”

But the journey to this self-acceptance wasn’t easy. Behind her confidence today lies years of struggles, setbacks, and moments that nearly broke her spirit. From a young age, Chiles faced obstacles that extended far beyond the gym—challenges that tested not just her skills but her very identity.

Jordan Chiles revisits past trauma

For Jordan Chiles, the heartbreak of losing a hard-earned Olympic bronze medal in the floor exercise wasn’t just devastating—it was a haunting reminder of something she had experienced before. “I was crying. And I felt like every single time I would accomplish something, something would be stripped away from me,” she revealed. But this wasn’t the first time she had felt that pain.

In her memoir I’m That Girl and a candid conversation on Casuals with Katie Nolan, Chiles detailed a moment from her childhood that had long been buried. It happened in December 2009, at one of her first Level 7 competitions. She had dominated the meet, winning three gold medals and two silvers, earning a spot to compete at Disney World. She even received a plaque confirming her victory. “It, yeah, I  was really young when this happened. I was so excited to get up on that podium and accept my award and take it home with me,” she recalled. “But that didn’t happen.”

The celebration turned into confusion. Her coach was nowhere in sight. Then, a judge approached her, took away her plaque, and delivered a cruel decision—Chiles would not be going. The reason? A coach had objected. And, as Chiles painfully realized years later, it wasn’t about her performance.“I got it stripped away from me because of my skin color,” she admitted on the podcast. “I wasn’t very welcomed at this competition.”

At the time, she didn’t fully understand what had happened. But when her mother later explained the truth, the floodgates opened. That Christmas, her parents gave her a replica of the plaque—a small but powerful act of love, reminding her that the victory had always been hers.