All year I have been eagerly anticipating the Olympics. It’s pretty much the only sporting event I watch. Two years is a long time to wait in between Olympic games, or rather three years this time thanks to the postponement of the Tokyo games. This time, we get to add to the games rock climbing and surfing: two sports I actually enjoy doing myself, albeit as a baby beginner. Then there is gymnastics and the thrill of watching the queen herself, Simone Biles. That is, until she surprised us all by stepping down from the all-around competition.

I can’t stop thinking about this turn of events or about her. I cannot fathom what it feels like to be her, to do things no one else can, to have lived through the trauma she has, to carry the weight of expectations that she carries. I don’t know what it is like to be a woman of color in such a bright spotlight, under the scrutiny of everyone. But I do know very well what it is like to be a woman.

Being a woman always involves the expectations that other people have for you and your life. We either try to live up to those expectations, shrink to fit those expectations, or like Simone we can say “no”. I think the biggest turning point in a woman’s life is when she is able to say “no”. It is truly brave to stand up for yourself, to set boundaries, and face the inevitable backlash. As women, our judgement is often questioned for knowing what is best for us. We are praised for making sacrifices for the good of others, in motherhood and beyond. We do what we should rather than claim what we want. At least I know that I have.

It has taken me well into my thirties to recognize the voice of my own desires. It has taken my own struggles with mental illness to make me put my mental well-being first. I applaud Simone Biles for doing that at age 24 with much more to “lose” than me. She shows all women, young and old, that what we cannot lose is ourselves, our joy. I think that her “no” makes her as much of a role model as do her physical strength and gravity defying feats.

This pottery project of mine, Waxing Gibbous, is about reclaiming my own sense of desire. As I draw designs and make pots, I follow what draws my interest. I try to experiment and leave space to play with new ideas. My activity in the studio is primarily about caring for my mental health, even though I do sell my pottery. Sometimes it is hard to get out there and get to work, but I do always feel less out-of-sorts after spending time with clay. I subscribe to the Lazy Genius definition of self-care: “doing something that makes you feel like yourself”. I love sharing my pottery with all of you, but I do this work mostly for me.

Nowadays I want to honor women not just for the amazing things they do, but for what they don’t do. Naomi Osaka said “no” to the press. Allyson Felix said “no” to Nike. Several girls I grew up with said “no” to continuing to compete in sports that gave them head injuries or the fear of such injuries. Maybe they missed out on winning but they gained control over their health. Just because a woman is good at something doesn’t mean that she has to keep doing it.

If living through a year and a half of a pandemic has taught us anything, it’s that people matter more than the things they accomplish. Last year when all the big things were taken away, I had to learn to find joy in the little things of daily life. I had to put away productivity in favor of caring for my own mental and emotional well-being. We all deserve compassion and a chance to live our own life. Simone deserves that too, even if she is the G.O.A.T. Here’s to caring for ourselves and each other.

-Katie