I had just finished a long, exhausting day when I stumbled across a video online. I almost scrolled past it, but I am glad I didn’t.
It was Alysa Liu, skating at the 2026 Winter Olympics. From the beginning of her performance, I couldn’t look away. Her movements were airy and light, almost weightless. She made it look so easy that it felt like watching something from a dream. Before I knew it, I had tears in my eyes and goosebumps running down my arms. It was as if I was moving with her, pulled into a trance. People online were calling her “sunshine on ice,” and I couldn’t agree more. Her energy and joy radiated through the screen, sending me on a full rollercoaster of emotions in just a few short minutes.
Naturally, I had to know more. What I found made the performance hit even harder. Alysa Liu became the youngest U.S. women’s national champion in history at just 13 years old. By 16, she was at the Olympics. And then she walked away. She has spoken openly about how she hated the all-consuming nature of skating at the 2022 Olympics, how the pressure had stolen the joy from something she once loved. So she stepped back, took two years for herself, and lived a normal life, going to college and exploring other things. After two years, she returned to the ice on her own terms as an artist rather than a competitor, performing for results. Her carefreeness and freedom from all that pressure were so evident in her performance. She was gliding on the ice, just happy to be doing something that brings her joy. At the Olympics, she said she wasn’t there for the medal but to show people her art. Even as the performance ended, and she stepped off the ice, she was seen jumping with joy, smiling brighter than ever, happy to have performed and not worried about the outcome. Witnessing this changed something in me.
When I found that video, I was in a deep slump. Midterm season was approaching, and my days had become all about reading essays, completing quizzes, and rushing to finish it all by the deadline. All the little things that used to make me happy, things that allowed me to forget all the stress, slowly dimmed away. I was left with this empty feeling. I had forgotten what it felt like to do something just because it made me happy. I felt so stuck that I almost didn’t write this article. Not because I didn’t have anything to say, but because I couldn’t find the motivation.
Alysa’s performance left a huge mark on me because her story is not the cliche “push through it and overcome it”. She dared to walk away and put herself first. So, when she returned to the ice, she was able to do her level best. Watching her reminded me that resting does not mean falling behind. Rest is recharging your fuel so you have the energy to go further. Midterm season has a way of making everything feel urgent, and nothing feels meaningful at the same time. In the midst of the chaos of deadlines, exams, and maintaining perfect grades, we lose the little moments of joy.
This doesn’t mean you should drop out of college and binge Netflix because it makes you happy. I am trying to say that we should give time to ourselves and find the small things that make us happy. It can be as simple as grabbing dinner with friends, going to the gym, taking a walk around campus, and noticing the surroundings, anything that makes you feel like yourself again. Alysa Liu didn’t find her way back in the rink by just pushing through; she returned after finding the reason she started, and maybe that is exactly what we all need to do.
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