The spotlight at the 2026 Winter Games was supposed to be about athletic excellence, redemption, and the thrill of Olympic competition. Instead, a darker narrative has emerged — one that pushed Amber Glenn to speak out forcefully after the women’s free skate at the 2026 Winter Olympics.
Following a powerful comeback performance, Glenn shifted attention away from scores and standings to address what she described as “disturbing” online comments and threats directed not only at her, but also at teammates Alysa Liu and Isabeau Levito. According to Glenn, the messages ranged from cruel personal attacks to alarming threats — a wave of toxicity that intensified as Olympic pressure mounted.
Rather than celebrating her resilience on the ice, Glenn used her post-skate platform to call for stronger protections for athletes navigating the digital battlefield that now shadows global competition. She emphasized that the emotional toll of online abuse can be especially dangerous for younger skaters, pointing specifically to Levito. “These are young women representing their country,” Glenn said in interviews. “They shouldn’t have to fear opening their phones.”
Sources close to the team say the harassment escalated during the Olympic event itself, with anonymous accounts targeting performances, appearances, and even spreading conspiracy-laced accusations. While online hostility toward elite athletes is not new, the scale and intensity during the Games reportedly raised internal concerns among coaches and federation officials.
Glenn’s remarks have sparked broader outrage across the figure skating community. Fans and former Olympians quickly rallied in support, demanding accountability from social media platforms and calling on governing bodies to expand digital monitoring and mental health resources. The issue underscores a growing reality in modern sports: Olympic arenas are no longer confined to rinks and stadiums — they extend into the unfiltered chaos of online spaces.
Behind the elegance of sequins and soaring triple jumps lies relentless scrutiny. For Liu and Levito, both still early in their senior careers, the added strain of hostile commentary during the world’s biggest sporting event has reignited conversations about athlete safety beyond physical security.
What pushed Glenn to speak so strongly was not a medal result, but a principle. In her view, competitive rivalry ends at the boards. Threats and harassment cross a line that no athlete — regardless of age or ranking — should ever have to endure. As the Milano Cortina Games continue, her words have shifted the focus from podium placements to a larger question: how can the Olympic movement protect its athletes not just on the ice, but everywhere the spotlight reaches?