Suni Lee’s Victoria’s Secret Walk Sparks a Bigger Conversation About Identity and Ownership

When Olympic gymnast Suni Lee appeared at the 2025 Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, it wasn’t just another celebrity cameo — it was a cultural moment wrapped in sequins, spotlight, and symbolism.

The 22-year-old gold medalist made history as the first Hmong woman to ever walk the Victoria’s Secret runway, a milestone that immediately went viral. For a community often invisible in mainstream media, seeing Suni — poised, confident, unapologetic — was deeply significant.

But in today’s internet age, no moment of triumph comes without turbulence.

The Applause — and the Backlash

Within minutes of her debut, social media split into two camps. One hailed the move as groundbreaking — an Olympic champion embracing empowerment on her own terms. The other questioned whether lingerie modeling conflicted with the image of an athlete who once symbolized youthful discipline and national pride.

When the criticism turned personal, Suni posted a brief, emotional message on social media:
“can u guys stop bullying me.”

It wasn’t a clapback. It was a reminder — that even champions can be human, that representation doesn’t mean immunity from judgment, and that women, especially women of color, are often policed for every choice they make.

Breaking Two Ceilings at Once

Suni’s walk represented more than a modeling gig. It broke two ceilings: one cultural, one social.

For the Hmong-American community, long underrepresented in Western entertainment, her presence on a global fashion stage was monumental. For female athletes, it challenged the rigid expectations that often confine them to a single narrative — strong, focused, unglamorous, and serious.

Suni Lee dared to be both strong and sensual, athletic and elegant. In doing so, she redefined what empowerment can look like for women whose stories rarely fit the mold.

The Double Standard

Her backlash reveals a persistent double standard. Male athletes can pivot to acting, brand deals, and lifestyle endorsements without scrutiny. Female athletes, particularly those of color, face accusations of “selling out” or “losing focus” the moment they step outside their discipline.

The subtext is clear: society still struggles to allow women, especially women who break barriers, the freedom to be more than one thing at once.

Suni’s quiet defiance — walking the runway on her own terms — was a reclamation of that freedom.

The Power of Visibility

For young Hmong girls watching around the world, seeing Suni Lee in the spotlight was revolutionary. She wasn’t cast as a side character or token of diversity — she was the headline.

Representation, after all, isn’t just about being seen; it’s about being seen in spaces that once said “you don’t belong here.”

By appearing in a show historically criticized for its exclusivity, Suni didn’t just participate — she helped transform it.

What Comes Next

The video she posted in response to online bullying has since been viewed millions of times. It has sparked conversations about athlete identity, female agency, and the emotional toll of visibility in the digital era.

“Can u guys stop bullying me” may sound simple, but in its vulnerability lies strength — the courage to confront a culture that too often confuses criticism with cruelty.

Suni Lee’s runway moment will be remembered not just as a first, but as a turning point — a reminder that progress rarely arrives without backlash, and that power sometimes looks like walking forward even when the world tells you to stay in your lane.

In an industry obsessed with image, she brought authenticity.
In a world quick to judge, she brought grace.
And in a single walk, she reminded millions that representation isn’t a costume — it’s a statement of belonging.