In society, there are often unspoken expectations that follow someone’s death. Chief among them is the belief that we should maintain a respectful period of silence, regardless of the deceased’s past actions or controversies. This pause is understood as a gesture of compassion, a way to honor grief before revisiting the more complicated aspects of a person’s life. Yet, traditions are not fixed rules, and occasionally someone challenges them. Recently, gymnast Simone Biles has done just that, sparking widespread debate about the boundaries between grief, respect, and truth-telling.
Only days after the passing of conservative commentator Charlie Kirk, Biles published a personal blog post reflecting on how his criticism affected her during one of the most vulnerable moments of her career. The timing of her remarks raised eyebrows. For some, it was a bold move—a refusal to let death erase the harm caused by a public figure’s words. For others, it seemed uncomfortably close to the moment of loss, a decision that risked appearing insensitive.
In her post, Biles revisited the emotional toll of the 2021 Tokyo Olympics. At that time, she shocked the sporting world by withdrawing from several events, citing a dangerous mental block known as the “twisties.” Her decision was groundbreaking, signaling a shift in how athletes prioritize mental health and challenging the expectation that physical performance must always come before personal well-being. But not everyone received her choice with compassion. Among her critics was Charlie Kirk, who denounced her actions as unpatriotic and weak.
Biles’s reflections shed light on just how damaging those comments were. For her, they were not passing remarks but lasting wounds—echoes that lingered long after the Olympics ended. By revisiting them now, she made clear that public criticism, particularly from influential voices, carries consequences that can’t be dismissed simply because time has passed. Her words reframed the narrative: they were not an attack on someone who could no longer respond, but an honest account of the scars left behind.
The response to her blog has been deeply divided. Supporters argue that Biles is reclaiming her story, asserting her right to speak openly about her experiences without being bound by traditions of silence. They see her choice as part of a broader cultural shift that emphasizes mental health, truth-telling, and authenticity over social niceties. In this view, her timing is not disrespectful—it is courageous.
Critics, however, question the decision to publish so soon after Kirk’s passing. They argue that grief requires space, and that addressing past grievances immediately following a death risks overshadowing mourning. Even if her points are valid, some believe they could have been raised later, at a moment less fraught with emotion. This perspective reflects a more traditional understanding of respect for the dead, in which silence, even if temporary, is seen as a moral duty.
What is clear is that Biles’s statement pushes the boundaries of public conversation. It highlights a growing tension between honoring the rituals of mourning and acknowledging the lived realities of those who were harmed by a person’s actions. Should death close the door on accountability, or should it open the way for fuller, more complex truths?
Ultimately, Biles’s decision adds another layer to her legacy—not just as one of the most decorated gymnasts in history, but as a public figure unafraid to speak uncomfortable truths. Her choice reflects a larger shift in cultural expectations: silence is no longer the only acceptable response to pain, even when that pain intersects with loss. By daring to voice her experience, she reminds us that grief and honesty can coexist, and that healing sometimes requires breaking traditions in order to tell the whole story.
