Our team, in general, is in a position where people look up to

The words of Megan Rapinoe carry the weight of both responsibility and courage: “Our team, in general, is in a position where people look up to us, and kids look up to us. I embrace that, and I think I have a huge LGBT following. I think it’s pretty cool, the opportunity that I have, especially in sports. There’s really not that many out athletes. It’s important to be out and to live my life that way.” In her voice we hear not only the pride of an athlete, but the fire of a leader who understands that her life is a beacon, and that her authenticity is as vital as her skill on the field.

She speaks first of the position of the team, a place where others look with admiration. To be admired is not merely to receive praise—it is to bear a burden. For when the young raise their eyes to you, when strangers seek guidance in your example, then your actions become a lesson written upon their hearts. Rapinoe acknowledges this with humility, choosing not to shrink from the responsibility, but to embrace it. Like the heroes of old who knew their lives were watched by the multitudes, she accepts the role of both athlete and teacher.

She then proclaims her bond with her LGBT following, a fellowship born not of statistics or trophies, but of courage and shared identity. In her honesty she offers hope, reminding countless others that they too can live openly, proudly, without shame. This is no small act, for in the world of sports—long dominated by silence and fear—her visibility is itself a revolution. Just as ancient warriors carried banners so their comrades could rally to them, Rapinoe carries her identity proudly, giving others the strength to stand.

History gives us examples of such courage. Recall the story of Jackie Robinson, who, as the first Black player in Major League Baseball, bore the hatred of many so that others could follow. His greatness was not only in his hits and stolen bases, but in his willingness to endure scorn for the sake of a greater future. Rapinoe’s path is carved from the same stone: she chooses openness not only for herself, but so that others, too, may walk more freely in the days to come.

She reminds us that there are not many out athletes—that silence still pervades the stadiums and arenas of the world. Yet instead of despair, she finds in this scarcity a calling: to fill the void, to be a voice where voices are absent. To her, the opportunity is not a burden but a gift, a chance to prove that truth and excellence can coexist, that one need not hide to succeed. This transforms her journey from mere competition into a mission, a sacred duty to merge sport with authenticity.

From this flows a timeless lesson: to live openly is to live powerfully. When we conceal ourselves, we dim the light that could guide others. When we stand openly, we give courage to the timid, hope to the despairing, and vision to the young. Rapinoe teaches that authenticity is not weakness—it is strength, sharper than steel, brighter than flame. For in living truthfully, one becomes a mirror where others may see the reflection of their own possibility.

Therefore, children of tomorrow, do not fear to be who you are. Whatever the arena—whether the field, the stage, the workplace, or the hearth—stand in truth. Understand, as Rapinoe does, that you are seen, and that being seen can shape the lives of many who may never meet you. Carry this responsibility with honor, for it is both a burden and a gift. And remember always that in choosing authenticity, you build a bridge between yourself and the countless souls longing to cross into freedom.

Thus, Megan Rapinoe’s words become more than personal testimony—they are an eternal command: be visible, be true, be strong. For in a world where silence once reigned, the voices that rise with courage light the way for generations yet unborn. To live in truth is to live as a warrior of the spirit, and those who follow will remember your stand as a beacon that could not be extinguished.