One year ago today, I won my third Olympic medal. It still feels surreal. After my semifinal loss, I went to cut weight. I called both my parents and neither answered. I was sad, not because losing is the end of the world, but because I truly believed I could win gold, and I wanted to share that joy with them. At the same time, I couldn’t stop crying from gratitude that I even had this opportunity again. Two days before competition, I invited them to watch me train. I know they think I’ve never really been the same since the head injuries. And while my parents support me 100%, I know they’d be just as happy if I retired. I wanted to show them what I’d been trusting God with and that I’m better than I’ve ever been. And I was, it just didn’t result in the outcome I wanted. That’s okay because while outcome goals are good to have, it’s who you become in the process that makes it truly worthwhile. That night, I texted my dad (whose birthday was two days before). I said: “I wanted t...