In this episode of The School of Greatness, Olympic snowboarder Chloe Kim shares her journey of balancing elite athletic performance with mental health and personal growth. Kim discusses how her ADHD diagnosis transformed her understanding of herself, explaining how snowboarding provided an outlet for her hyper-focus while her neurodivergence enhanced her creativity and visualization abilities. She opens up about her therapy experience, emotional regulation struggles, and how medication helped her manage reactivity and deeper trauma.
Kim also explores the mental demands of competing at the highest level, including her experience training with a dislocated shoulder before the Olympics and her evolving relationship with success and pressure. She reflects on her father's intense coaching style, the sacrifices her family made for her career, and her decision to reduce training to develop a fuller life beyond sports. Throughout, Kim emphasizes practical strategies for managing self-doubt, setting incremental goals, and focusing on what can be controlled.

Sign up for Shortform to access the whole episode summary along with additional materials like counterarguments and context.
Chloe Kim shares how snowboarding became the one activity where she could truly focus, effectively masking her ADHD symptoms through an intense flow state. She describes obsessively analyzing every detail of her performance, channeling her mental energy into improvement. Her ADHD made her hyper-attentive to technique—for example, when her engineer father had her hold a tennis ball keychain to prevent her back arm from flailing, helping her leverage ADHD traits as strengths for precision. Kim credits her ADHD with giving her a vivid imagination and fearless mindset, enabling her to visualize maneuvers and approach new tricks with unique creativity.
Kim began therapy nearly two years ago after struggling with emotional outbursts, racing thoughts, intense anger, and overwhelming reactions to triggers. Despite attending sessions up to three times a week, her instantaneous reactivity persisted, leading to deep regret and frustration. After consulting a psychiatrist, she discovered she had severe ADHD, which was likely causing her depression and anxiety. Starting ADHD medication helped her regulate responses, providing relief from immediate emotional triggers and making her less reactive. With medication, therapy became less about managing crises and more about addressing deeper trauma and exploring root causes of emotional distress.
Kim's diagnosis reframed her struggles in relationships and daily functioning, helping her realize that untreated neurodivergence—not personal flaws—caused her difficulties. She now recognizes her racing thoughts and inability to calm her mind as ADHD symptoms rather than failings, reducing self-blame and shame. Kim credits her supportive network of friends and family with encouraging her to seek professional help without stigma, normalizing her mental health journey.
Kim faced a major setback before the Olympics, dislocating her shoulder and getting only eight days on snow in six months. Despite the injury, she continued training with one arm, popping her shoulder back in during practice and relearning aerial maneuvers. The constant threat of her shoulder dislocating was both physically and mentally exhausting, requiring her to overcome fear and manage uncertainty throughout the Games.
Entering the Games underprepared, Kim felt she'd need a miracle to medal. Despite winning silver, she initially felt disappointed but consciously reframed her perspective, focusing on self-compassion and recognizing her deeper victory: learning to persist through adversity. The experience transformed her understanding of success, finding pride in effort and resilience rather than just results.
Kim openly discusses how self-doubt is impossible to fully eliminate, emphasizing the importance of relying on training and muscle memory. Early in her career, she internalized the toxic notion that anything less than winning equated to failure, but a turning point came when her friend Queralt broke her winning streak. Kim felt genuinely happy for her friend, recognizing the shared dedication of all athletes and reframing competitions as celebrations of collective effort. She also learned to reframe external expectations as manifestations of belief in her abilities, transforming "scary expectations" into seeing supporters as cheerleaders.
Mental rehearsal became essential to Kim's preparation. She frequently watched videos of other athletes, mentally replicating their tricks and visualizing from the rider's point of view. This relentless visualization made her physical training more effective. Kim explains that she rarely experienced fear when attempting new tricks, attributing her fearlessness and vivid imagination to her ADHD, which offered a competitive edge in executing complex and dangerous maneuvers.
By age 20, Kim recognized the physical and emotional toll of nonstop travel and high-intensity training. A year at college exposed her to diverse interests beyond action sports, revealing what she was sacrificing for snowboarding. She began to ask herself who she might become after her athletic career ends and decided to nurture that evolving identity even while still competing. Kim changed her training approach, stopping international snow chasing and starting sessions in mid-fall instead of mid-summer, which lessened travel and made her regimen more sustainable. This freed-up time opened opportunities for personal growth and exploration.
Following the Olympics, Kim finds herself in a whirlwind of media appearances and is intentionally taking her time to process her future. Having accomplished her key goals in snowboarding, she now feels liberated to make career decisions based on her instincts and desires rather than obligation.
Kim is inspired by her partner's relentless work ethic and dedication. Their relationship, built on mutual understanding of the sacrifices and demands inherent to elite sports, allows them to empathize with each other's challenges. Kim emphasizes that commitment to sport and a happy partnership can coexist.
Kim recounts that her parents invested everything into her snowboarding training, with her father leaving his own career to give her every opportunity. The family faced intense financial pressure, setting a deadline that if she didn't achieve competitive results by age 13, they would have to end her training. Coincidentally, she began performing exceptionally well at 13, relieving that pressure.
Her father's "tiger parent" approach involved demanding drills and skill practice. He insisted she master riding switch—snowboarding with the unnatural foot forward—which became a significant competitive asset. His engineering background shaped his methods, including inventing the tennis ball keychain tool to stabilize her back arm. These technical interventions, while rooted in intense scrutiny, directly contributed to her achievements.
Kim recognizes both the trauma caused by her father's intensity and his emotionally distant approach, common in many Asian families. She describes their relationship as having improved greatly since her first Olympics. As an adult reflecting in therapy, she acknowledges mutual hurts despite deep love. Her father continues to inspire her, attending culinary school in Japan at age 70 and learning a new language. Kim expresses a mature, therapeutic balance in her perspective, acknowledging the pain while crediting him as instrumental in her rise to greatness.
Kim emphasizes focusing on what can be controlled—work ethic, discipline, mindfulness, and self-investment. She urges focusing on preparation and presence rather than outcomes, acknowledging that anxiety about uncertainty is natural. Her therapist reminds her that setting manageable goals and concentrating on what is controllable creates confidence even amid uncertainty.
Kim advises setting incremental, manageable goals to make daunting long-term pursuits attainable. She distinguishes between "losing" and "not winning," advocating for reframing a competition outcome as "not achieving a goal" rather than outright losing. For Kim, success means showing up and giving full effort, even amid doubt or hardship.
Throughout her career, Kim moved swiftly from one competition to the next without pausing to acknowledge her successes. She reflects that she wishes she had celebrated her smaller wins along the way, as this would have made all her victories more meaningful. Kim describes learning emotional regulation and self-awareness, especially by recognizing her triggers and using therapy and medication support.
Kim stresses the importance of presence and gratitude to avoid unhelpful comparisons. She believes people are "exactly where they're supposed to be" and focuses on small daily moments of joy. After struggling with weight gain and increased pain during COVID, Kim resolved to be consistent with exercise, incorporating jogging, gym workouts, and Pilates. She credits her fitness for protecting her body, enabling faster recovery, and maintaining psychological resilience, even when facing setbacks or doubts.
1-Page Summary
Chloe Kim shares how snowboarding became the one pursuit where she could really focus, contrasting with her general struggles to concentrate. The unique demands of snowboarding allowed her to enter a powerful flow state, effectively masking ADHD symptoms. She describes obsessively analyzing and re-analyzing every detail of her performance, especially after a bad training day. This intense focus helped channel her mental energy into improvement and contributed to her success on the slopes.
Within this focus, Chloe’s ADHD made her hyper-attentive to technique and improvement. For example, her engineer father devised a creative solution for her snowboarding stability, having her hold a tennis ball keychain to prevent her back arm from flailing. This type of targeted focus, prompted by external prompts and tactile adjustments, highlights how her ADHD traits could be leveraged as strengths for precision and consistency in her sport.
Chloe credits her ADHD with giving her a vivid imagination and a fearless mindset. She never truly experienced fear when attempting new tricks, thanks in part to her ability to visualize maneuvers and anticipate each motion by watching and mentally replaying videos. These neurodivergent traits enabled her to approach new challenges in snowboarding with unique creativity and boldness.
Chloe began therapy nearly two years ago, initially seeking relief from feeling like she wasn’t "a good person" in general life, not solely in sports. She recounts emotional outbursts, becoming easily triggered—sometimes responding with yelling, walking away, or overwhelming emotional reactions like racing thoughts, intense anger, and feelings of internal heat. Despite progress in expressing herself, attending sessions up to three times a week, her instantaneous reactivity persisted.
She often caught herself regretting her reactions after the fact, feeling deep frustration that she couldn't stop herself in the moment. This ongoing struggle made her sad and concerned because her intentions were always good, but she was unable to pause or respond calmly as she wished. The cycle of reactivity, regret, and self-critique pushed her to seek further answers.
After consulting a psychiatrist, Chloe learned she had severe ADHD, which was likely the source of her depression and anxiety. Her psychiatrist recommended treating the ADHD first, reasoning that much of her emotional distress stemmed from it. Starting ADHD medication helped her regulate her responses, providing relief from immediate emotional triggers and making her less reactive and more flexible when faced with stressors.
With medication, Chloe describes feeling calmer, less anxious, and better able to handle potentially stressful situations without spiraling into previous cycles of reactivity. She notes that experiences, which would have triggered strong responses before, are now manageable; she can pivot and adapt without agitation.
Now, therapy is less about managing immediate crises. Chloe can address deeper issues, spend time on trauma healing, and explore the root causes of her emotional distress. Her sessions are no longer dominated by recent emotional upheavals but can instea ...
Mental Health, Therapy, and Emotional Healing (Adhd Diagnosis & Reactivity)
Chloe Kim faced a major setback before the Olympics, dislocating her shoulder during the first winter training camp. This injury resulted in only eight days on snow in six months, a drastic reduction compared to her usual months of preparation. She spent about ten days rehabbing in Los Angeles before trying to get back on snow, but continued to struggle with her shoulder repeatedly dislocating.
Despite her injury, Kim planned to continue training with one arm, determined to make the best of her limited situation. Her approach included popping her shoulder back in during practice and using a brace, but the unpredictability of her shoulder coming out—sometimes during runs—created immense frustration. She had to entirely relearn her aerial maneuvers without full use of both arms, managing both the physical and mental demands of competing with an unpredictable injury.
Kim describes the difficulty of not allowing fear to dominate, noting her first two days back on snow were about relearning to not be scared of snowboarding again, progressing to throwing herself into difficult tricks with one arm. The constant threat of her shoulder coming out was both physically and mentally exhausting, especially when others couldn’t fully understand the gray area of her injury—not fully sidelined, but never truly secure.
Entering the Games so underprepared left Kim feeling the odds were stacked against her and that she’d need a miracle to medal. Despite these immense limitations and initial disappointment, Kim ultimately won a silver medal. She is candid about feeling let down at first, having invested years of training with different expectations. However, she consciously reframed her perspective, reminding herself she hadn’t had the same preparation as usual and instead focused on showing self-compassion.
She found peace in recognizing her deeper victory: learning to persist through uncertainty, pain, and incomplete preparation—while still performing at a high level. Kim realized that, although winning is always thrilling, showing up and doing her best in such adversity imparted a unique and valuable lesson in perseverance and grit. The experience transformed her understanding of success, finding pride in her effort and resilience rather than just the results.
Kim openly discusses the constant presence of self-doubt, asserting that it’s impossible to fully eliminate. Even the best mental preparation can be shaken the moment things don’t go according to plan. Rather than aiming for total confidence, she focuses on quieting the noise of doubt when possible and accepting it when it resurfaces. She emphasizes the importance of relying on training and muscle memory in moments of uncertainty, understanding that doubt and fear of the unknown are fundamental to the human experience.
Early in her career, Kim internalized the toxic notion that anything less than winning equated to failure. She felt immense pressure every time she wasn’t on the podium, struggling with a mindset that became harmful over more than a decade of competition. A turning point came when her friend and competitor, Queralt, broke her winning streak. Instead of resentment, Kim felt genuinely happy for her friend, recognizing the shared dedication and struggles of all athletes. This experience allowed her to start reframing competitions as celebrations of collective effort rather than zero-sum games, transforming her view of both winning and losing.
Kim recounts significant pressure ...
Performance, Pressure, and Mindset: Overcoming Self-Doubt and Injury
Chloe Kim’s journey as an elite snowboarder highlights an intentional shift toward nurturing her identity beyond the world of competition. Her experience reflects the broader challenge many athletes face in cultivating a fulfilling life outside their sport.
By age 20, Chloe Kim recognized the physical and emotional toll of nonstop travel and high-intensity training for international competitions. She recalls feeling exhausted and questioning the sustainability of maintaining such a demanding schedule.
A year spent at college exposed Kim to a diversity of people and interests beyond action sports. Interacting with driven, passionate individuals whose lives weren’t defined solely by athletics revealed to her what she was sacrificing for snowboarding. This exposure sparked a curiosity about experiencing different facets of life.
Kim acknowledges the daunting realization that she will not snowboard forever. While at school, she began to ask herself who she might become after her athletic career ends and decided to nurture that evolving identity even while still competing as a teenager.
To address burnout, Kim changed her training approach. She stopped the routine of international snow chasing, like going to New Zealand, and shifted to starting training sessions in mid-fall instead of mid-summer. This adaptation lessened travel, reduced intensity, and made her regimen more sustainable.
This strategic reduction of her schedule afforded Kim more time to cultivate interests outside of snowboarding, supporting her desire to become a “whole person.” She deliberately set aside time for personal development, refusing to allow snowboarding to define her entire identity.
The freed-up time from a relaxed training calendar opened opportunities for Kim to explore new passions and personal growth. She acknowledges that she is still in the process of discovering herself and feels no pressure to make immediate, life-altering decisions about her future in the sport.
Following the Olympics, Kim finds herself in a whirlwind of media appearances and obligations. She admits to still being in the thick of post-Games chaos, unsure about her next steps regarding competition or retirement, and is intentionally taking her time to process her future.
Having accomplished her key goals in snowboarding, Kim now feels liberated to make career decisions based on her instincts and desires, instead of a sense of oblig ...
Identity Beyond Sports: Building a Life Outside Competition
Chloe Kim’s relationship with her father is shaped by his intense, “tiger” coaching style, deep sacrifices, and an evolving mutual understanding that blends gratitude and trauma.
Chloe Kim recounts that her parents invested everything into her snowboarding training, making tremendous financial sacrifices. Her father left his own career so he could give her every opportunity, an enormous risk for the family. The financial pressure was intense; her parents set a clear deadline: if she didn’t achieve competitive results by age 13, they would have to end her training because they couldn’t afford to continue. This knowledge was withheld from Chloe at the time, but coincidentally, she began performing exceptionally well at 13, relieving that pressure and marking a shift in her athletic career trajectory.
Her father's "tiger parent" approach involved demanding, sometimes unwanted drills and skill practice. He was insistent, often getting upset if she didn’t comply, most notably insisting she master riding switch—snowboarding with the unnatural foot forward. She reflects on days spent doing every possible drill switch, from riding down to the halfpipe to going off jumps, which was rare for snowboarders at the time and ultimately became a significant competitive asset. Her father's engineering background also shaped his methods: observing her flailing back arm while snowboarding, he invented a practical tool, attaching a tennis ball keychain to her pants so she had to keep her arm stable during runs. These technical interventions, while rooted in intense scrutiny, directly contributed to her achievements.
Chloe Kim recognizes both the trauma caused by her father's intensity and his emotionally distant approach, a pattern common in many Asian families. She describes their relationship as having improved greatly since her first Olympics, when he was able to step back. As an adult reflecting in therapy, she acknowledges mutual hurts despite deep love, stating that even those who love us most can still cause pain. She recognizes both the challenges and the gifts: his unwavering belief in her, his willingness to risk everything, and his model of unconditional, if sometimes stoic, parental love and support.
Her fat ...
Parental Influence: Impact of Father's "Tiger" Coaching Style
Chloe Kim shares insights on developing a success-oriented mindset, highlighting control, discipline, presence, emotional awareness, celebrating achievements, and the transformative power of fitness.
Kim emphasizes the importance of focusing on what can be controlled. She highlights work ethic, discipline, mindfulness, and self-investment as essential elements. By working hard, being disciplined, recovering mindfully, and consistently investing in oneself—though it may initially seem selfish—she believes lasting rewards follow. Kim explains that self-investment is the greatest gift one can give oneself.
She urges focusing on preparation and presence rather than outcomes, acknowledging that humans are naturally anxious about uncertainty. Her therapist reminds her that fears about the future—such as not being good enough, healthy, or prepared—are natural, but setting manageable goals and concentrating on what is controllable creates confidence and composure even amid uncertainty.
Kim advises setting incremental, manageable goals as a way to make daunting long-term pursuits attainable. She notes that looking five or ten years into the future can be intimidating and anxiety-inducing. By breaking goals down into smaller milestones, the journey becomes exciting rather than dreadful and overwhelming. Achieving each small goal creates momentum, excitement, and a sense of progress, whether the pursuit is athletic, professional, or personal. Kim says that focusing on these milestones allows people to look up one day and realize they have reached their destination, making the journey both achievable and rewarding.
Kim distinguishes between “losing” and “not winning,” advocating for reframing a competition outcome as “not achieving a goal” rather than outright losing. She believes calling it “losing” is an oversimplification of a complex process. For Kim, success means showing up, giving full effort, and competing even amid doubt, hardship, or struggle. This mindset prevents athletes from forming shame or inadequacy over outcomes that can reflect circumstances and variance, not their self-worth.
Throughout her career, Kim moved swiftly from one competition to the next without pausing to acknowledge her successes, even after major titles like X-Games medals or Olympic golds. She describes how her constant momentum dampened the thrill of celebration, leading even Olympic golds to feel less exciting and validating after the first. Kim reflects that she wishes she had celebrated her smaller wins along the way, as this would have made all her victories more meaningful and could have helped sustain her motivation through her career.
Kim describes learning emotional regulation and self-awareness—especially by recognizing her triggers, moments of nervous system dysregulation, and using therapy and medication support. She notes that her sacrifices for athletic success sometimes came at the cost of relationships and personal authenticity, but now sees these aspects as interdependent. With ADHD therapy, she is learning to improve her wellbeing and strengthen important relationships, understanding that success in sport and life also depends on emotional health and interpersonal fulfillment.
Kim stresses the importance of presence and gratitude to avoid unhelpful comparisons. She believes that people are “exac ...
Success Mindset: Visualization, Discipline, Learning From Losses
Download the Shortform Chrome extension for your browser
