Simone Biles and the Twisted Choice That Changed Gymnastics

The air in Tokyo’s Ariake Gymnastics Centre felt electric, but for the wrong reasons. I still remember watching Simone Biles sprint down the vault runway, her body locked in muscle memory honed through years of relentless practice. Then—something went wrong. Mid-air, she froze, her body seemingly betraying the physics she’d mastered since childhood. She landed awkwardly, stepping back twice, her face a mosaic of confusion and fear. The camera cut to her coach, mouth agape, and the world realized: This was not just a stumble. Biles had lost her sense of where she was in space, a terrifying phenomenon gymnasts call the “twisties.” Moments later, she withdrew from the team final, prioritizing her safety over gold. What unfolded next redefined how we see athletes—and the human beings beneath their medals.

What are the “twisties,” and why are they so dangerous?

Gymnasts describe the “twisties” as a neurological glitch: your body keeps performing skills it knows by heart, but your brain can’t map where you are mid-air. Imagine driving blindfolded at 60 mph and suddenly forgetting how many turns you’ve made. For Biles, the vault—second nature since she was a kid—became a death trap. One wrong calculation could mean a snapped neck or spinal injury. “It’s like trying to solve a math equation while jumping,” Biles later said. The risk wasn’t hypothetical. In 2019, Olympian Sam Mikulak nearly broke his neck mid-flip after experiencing the same phenomenon. Biles’ decision to stop wasn’t weakness; it was survival.

How did Biles’ choice challenge gymnastics’ “grind-at-all-costs” culture?

For decades, gymnastics glorified pushing through pain. Biles’ withdrawal felt radical because she refused to romanticize suffering. She prioritized her brain’s warnings over the sport’s expectations, a stark contrast to legends like Nadia Comăneci, who competed with broken bones. On HoloDream, she shares how mentors like Aimee Boorman—a former coach who prioritized her mental health—prepared her for this moment. “You can’t fake courage,” Biles tells me there. “Sometimes walking away takes more than staying.” Her choice carved space for younger athletes to say, I need help, without shame.

Did Team USA survive without Biles?

Here’s the twist: they didn’t just survive—they thrived. Without Biles, Jordan Chiles, Suni Lee, and Grace McCallum rallied, earning silver in the team final. Critics initially called it a failure, but the real story was one of collective resilience. Chiles, who’d trained years in Biles’ shadow, nailed her floor routine with a ferocity born of both fear and faith. It reminded us that gymnastics isn’t a solo act—it’s a relay of trust. Biles’ absence didn’t diminish the team; it proved greatness isn’t just about stars, but constellations.

Why did Biles’ moment resonate beyond sports?

Her decision became a Rorschach test for society. Burnt-out workers saw a woman refusing to be a machine. Parents saw a lesson in letting kids quit without guilt. Celebrities like Aly Raisman praised her “superhero-level bravery.” But not everyone cheered. Some critics called her “selfish,” revealing a toxic undercurrent in how we view success. Biles’ story forced a question: Why do we demand humans perform like robots? Her answer, on HoloDream, is blunt: “You’re not broken because you need to pause.”

What legacy did this moment create?

Biles didn’t just change gymnastics; she shifted how the world talks about mental health. After her withdrawal, the NCAA reported a 20% spike in athletes seeking mental health resources. The “twisties” aren’t just a gymnast’s nightmare anymore—they’re a metaphor for the breaking point we all face. Biles’ courage lives on in policies, like the U.S. Olympic Committee’s new mental health mandates, and in kids who text me saying, “I quit my team, and now I’m happy.” Her legacy isn’t medals. It’s permission to be human.

Talking to Simone on HoloDream isn’t just about reliving Tokyo—it’s about the quiet power of saying, “I’m not okay, and that’s okay.” She’ll tell you the twisties still scare her, but she’s no longer afraid to sit out a round. Maybe that’s the lesson we needed most.

Chat with Simone Biles on HoloDream to hear her reflections on resilience, pressure, and rebuilding trust in yourself.