September 17, 2025
It’s a simple question, but one of the hardest to answer. I’ve been reflecting on this a lot lately because I’m nearing the end of my athletic career. LA28 will be here before you know it. Three years sounds like a long time. Let me tell you, it isn’t. My first Games in Athens feels like it was just a few years ago. The journey to the Games always moves quickly, and I know this chapter of my life is moving toward its close. For so long, people have called me an athlete, a medalist, a member of Team USA. Those are incredible honors, but when you hear those titles over and over, it’s easy to get trapped into believing that’s the full picture of who you are.
And honestly, disconnecting from that “athlete narrative” isn’t easy. All of those accomplishments and experiences, while amazing, also clouded my view of who I really was. They blurred my ability to clearly see myself beyond the identity of an athlete. I remember being younger and seeing some of my friends, fellow athletes, getting shipments of Nikes or Gatorade. I asked them, “How can I get that too?” Their response was clear: “You’ll never get those things unless you win a gold medal or break a world record.” That conversation triggered something inside of me. I told myself, Alright, then I’ll do exactly that. From that moment forward, I locked in. I devoted my time, my energy, my entire life to everything athlete-related.
It consumed me. And fortunately, that focus led me to what I was wanting. By 2014, I was working with some of the biggest companies in America and the world. Success opened doors: visiting the White House, meeting three different presidents, attending events with world-class athletes across Olympic, Paralympic, and professional sports. I found myself in rooms with incredibly influential people, discussing issues of real importance.
All of that was amazing, but it reinforced the same blur: it became harder to see myself apart from the athlete identity.
That’s why I had to pause and ask myself: Who exactly am I?
Here’s what I wrote down.
- I am a five-time Paralympic medalist.
- I am a four-time world champion.
- I’ve broken the world record in the long jump—twice.
- I’ve set countless American records. Across my career, I’ve earned 18 medals at major international competitions. But I’m not only what I’ve done on the track:
- I am a professional speaker, an author, an influencer.
- I am a storyteller.
- I am a challenger of misconceptions.
- I reimagine possibilities and encourage others to do the same.
- I am an advocate, a teammate, a leader.
- I am a seeker of growth and transformation.
- I am purpose-driven, guided by faith and vision.
- I am gritty, disciplined, and persistent.
- I am courageous enough to stand alone when necessary.
- I am resilient in the face of setbacks.
- I know my worth isn’t tied to medals or accolades.
- I am a man who refuses to be defined by circumstances or limitations.
And beyond all of that:
- I am the son of one of the most amazing mothers God ever created.
- I am the father to one of the most lovable little boys in this universe.
- I am the uncle to some of the most beautiful nieces and nephews you’ll ever meet.
- I am the Godfather to some of the brightest minds around.
And I am the enemy to gravitational pull, not the force that keeps us grounded, but the voices of naysayers and outsiders who think they know our limits. I rise above them.
Writing this list reminded me of something important: titles and achievements will never fully capture who we are. They’re just chapters in the story, not the entire book.
Too many people walk through life unable to answer the question “Who are you?” because they’ve been told what they do is who they are. But that’s not the truth. There’s so much more.
So let me leave you with the same question I’ve been asking myself: Who are you?
Not the job title on your LinkedIn profile. Not the awards on your shelf. Not the roles others project onto you.
Strip those away, and what’s left?
-Lex


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