In 2019, Olympic runners Allyson Felix, Alysia Montaño, and Kara Goucher spoke out against Nike for failing to provide maternity protections for their most bankable female athletes. There was an outcry, a flood of public calls for action, and then change. As part of our ongoing Game Changers series, Felix opened up to Glamour about how intimidating it can be to speak out, the experiences that helped her find her voice, and what she hopes to accomplish on the Olympic world stage.
When I decided to speak out against pregnancy discrimination, I was very nervous about it. It scared me. I had never been someone who had really strong opinions publicly on things and didn’t really share too much of my personal life. Having my daughter was the tipping point—Camryn helped me find my voice. Becoming a mother helped me come to a place of understanding that if I don’t speak out, nothing will change for her. She helped me find the courage to fight.
When I did go public, I was blown away by the community and the support from other women. I heard from a ton of women across the industry who had the same feelings, who were scared to tell their employer that they were starting a family, or felt they had to hide their pregnancy out of fear that their job was going to change. I wasn’t alone. We had momentum, and things started to change.
I always felt like I needed to accomplish so much before I could start a family—like I couldn’t compete at this level and be a mom simultaneously. And in a way, that’s true. You can’t without the right support. At the 2016 Games, there were only 10 moms on Team USA. I feel so privileged to be training for my fifth Olympics and to be a mother. Representation matters so much—I hope to show other mothers that whatever it is they’re passionate about, women are so capable. We can’t let anybody get in our way.
Getting to this point has been dangerous. Before I gave birth to my daughter, I knew the statistics: Black women are more than three times as likely to die in childbirth as white women. I understood that this was a problem, but I still didn’t think that it could affect me because I’m a professional athlete. I exercised throughout my pregnancy, I ate right. Everything was going so well. But at my 32-week checkup, I was rushed to the hospital for an emergency C-section. I had preeclampsia, a condition that’s life threatening to both mom and baby and occurs at rates 60% higher in Black women than in white women.
To be faced with losing your own life creates a certain level of fear. But thinking about losing the life of my unborn child just felt unbearable. In those moments that I was being rushed into emergency surgery, all I knew was to hold on to my husband’s hand. I was terrified because I didn’t feel prepared for this. I hadn’t been looking for the signs of preeclampsia. I didn’t feel educated.
After Camryn came into this world, she was placed in the NICU and I started trying to understand how this happened. That’s when I learned more about the Black maternal mortality crisis and knew that I had to use my voice to try to bring awareness of this extremely concerning issue. The first thing I would tell myself looking back would be really to educate myself and to make sure that at every single appointment I was asking the right questions.
Educating yourself is only part of the fight. Once you understand that you’re at risk, you then have to feel that you have a voice—that if you have an issue, you’ll be able to bring it up and to be heard and understood. That’s a huge part of the Black maternal mortality crisis as well. The more women who speak up, the more women will have a voice—because when a woman speaks up and shares her truth, you really feel that collective power. You feel like, I can relate, like you’re not so alone.
After the birth and being in the NICU with my daughter, I was definitely having doubts about whether I could get back to the person and the athlete I was before. Recovering from a traumatic birth is a humbling experience and made me realize I’d taken my health for granted. Coming back, my first workout was just a 30-minute power walk, and I remember feeling completely defeated because even that was so challenging. It was extremely scary to get started. Little by little is the only way that I made it.
There were a lot of days when I felt it wasn’t going to be my year. For me, I tend to get so consumed with my plan for how things are going to go. But I had to understand that all this effort might end up where everything works out and it’s a fairytale and it’s great. Or it might end up somewhere completely different—and that’s perfectly fine as well. I told myself, It’s okay for everything not to work out.
Ten months later, I broke the record previously held by Usain Bolt for most world titles. It’s funny, the record wasn’t even on my mind that day—I was just so preoccupied with trying to get back to being myself and so happy that I could compete at all. It was such a difficult year and such a difficult birth that it was really encouraging to have this flood of appreciation for getting back to what felt like a win for me but also what felt like a big moment for women in general—this was a win for us.
Each Olympic Games that I’ve gone to has been a little different, but it’s always been all about the competition—my winning, my goals. It really feels different this time. We need to use this platform to continue to do better, to speak out, to call out things that aren’t right, and to stand with each other.
It’s a very personal decision to speak out against injustice. When I decided to speak out against Nike, I just could not physically sit by and be silent any longer. I had to expose what I was going through. I told myself I might lose everything, I might never have another sponsor again. I had come to grips with the idea that, Okay, if I lose everything, will it still mean that much to me to speak out? For me, the answer was yes. I had to stay true to my beliefs and most importantly to be able to tell my daughter that I really stood for what I believed in.
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This moment is no different. When it comes to race issues in this country and around the world, the solution feels so far away and so unlikely that it can feel discouraging. So I’m just taking it one step at a time. That’s the same thing I try to do on the track: break down my progress. Instead of looking at this giant hurdle of making my fifth Olympics, I try to just focus on what I need to do over the next month of training. The last few months have reminded me that now more than ever, we must stand for something. We have to live lives of purpose and encourage others to do the same. If in each and every circumstance we do our best to lead with love, I feel confident in where we will end up.
As we look toward our next chapter, I hope to represent women overcoming adversity. My daughter has taught me to use my voice—she has taught me that speaking out isn’t just important but necessary. I’ve always been extremely private, and I believe that speaking out about our personal experiences is a decision each of us have to make for ourselves. Even though it’s scary, I’m committed to continuing to use my voice for positive change.
I remind myself that we are strong, we are capable, and we will continue to fight for the things that we know we deserve. It starts with standing together.
