Eileen Gu Isn’t Just Winning Medals—She’s Redefining What an Olympian Looks Like

In person, Eileen Gu’s medals aren’t the first thing that people notice about her. It’s her silence. As if to calm something inside herself before gravity takes over, she frequently stops for a second before plunging in from the edge of the halfpipe in Livigno, Italy, with her shoulders relaxed and her skis perfectly balanced.

Gu solidified her status as the most decorated female freestyle skier in the history of the sport by adding two silver medals to her already historic Olympic record at the Winter Olympics Milano Cortina 2026. Just that fact ought to seem conclusive. Oddly enough, though, the discussion around her continues. It appears to feed it.

She attended Stanford for her education after being born in San Francisco and growing up on different continents. However, she competes for China, a choice she made as a teenager that still has an impact today. It appears that she has become accustomed to being in awkward situations as she speaks at press conferences and responds to inquiries with deliberate composure.

Winning medals might have been simpler than controlling expectations.

This was perfectly captured in one moment in Milan. A reporter asked her if she saw the outcome as “two silvers gained or two golds lost” after she won silver in big air. For a longer time than anticipated, the question hung in the air. Gu grinned, though it wasn’t totally warm. She referred to the viewpoint as “ridiculous,” pointing out that every Olympic medal has a transformative effect.

The weariness that lies behind that smile is difficult to ignore.

Her dominance in athletics is still indisputable. She is the only female skier competing in the big air, slopestyle, and halfpipe freestyle events at the same Games. That choice alone shows ambition that verges on stubbornness, pushing her into mental and physical realms that most athletes steer clear of. Nevertheless, she continues to add to her record.

Her life seems almost unreal when she is not on the slopes. Quantum physics is her field of study. She can be seen on magazine covers. Million-dollar endorsement deals are negotiated by her. Brands and investors seem to think she is more than just an athlete; rather, they see her as a cultural icon who can do more than just compete in sports. However, symbols hardly ever rest.

She is constantly the target of criticism, particularly from those who doubt her patriotism. Although she decided to compete abroad, some American pundits contend that she benefited from U.S. training. She is viewed by others as something completely different—a global citizen who has been influenced by many different places.

She hardly ever directly responds to those arguments. She continues to ski instead.

After every run, she takes a moment to glance at the scoreboard. It’s short. Nearly private. She seems to be looking for proof that the sacrifice was worthwhile as well as numbers as she watches that moment play out.

Whether or not that complete confirmation ever comes is still up in the air.

She has an impact that goes beyond competition. These days, young skiers dress like her. Speak as she does. Follow her lead. She has become a national hero in China. She continues to be a complex figure in the US. She is continuously watched in both locations.

For her, fame appears more like an environment than a reward. Despite this, she seems at ease in it.

Maybe that’s because she was taught to balance contradictions at a young age. Chinese and American. celebrity and athlete. Professional and student. Target and hero.

Those contradictions vanish on the mountain. Only rotation, speed, and landing are available. At the bottom, everything else waits.

She is probably going to keep winning medals. It almost seems inevitable. However, as I watch her now, it seems that the more fascinating tale is not how high she can climb but rather how she handles the pressures of being seen by everyone at once. Once more, she stands at the top of the slope.