What I learned from a Paralympian mom at the Women in Sports panel.

What I Learned from a Paralympian Mom at the Women in Sports Panel
I don’t play sports. Never have. But I’m an unapologetic fan of women in sports—women pushing past limits, smashing barriers, making bold moves, and rewriting the rules. At this year’s The Ad Club Boston Women’s Leadership Forum, the “Women in Sports” panel delivered all of that energy and more.
The panel featured a powerhouse lineup, but there was one woman whose story gave me goosebumps: a Paralympian, a national champion, and—oh yeah—currently pregnant with her second child. Her name is Femita Ayanbeku, and she’s the kind of woman whose story stays with you long after the applause fades.
Femita lost her leg in a car accident at age 11. She didn’t return to sports until she was 22, when she was gifted a running blade at a clinic in Boston. That moment was a turning point—an emotional, life-altering experience that unlocked a future she hadn’t even imagined for herself. From there, she didn’t just take up running. She took it all the way—to the Paralympics, to multiple national titles, and to becoming a role model for women and girls around the world.
But what makes her story even more powerful is the way she balances her ambition and identity as a mother. Just six months after giving birth to her first child, Femita stepped back onto the track for trials—and won. Now, she’s training while seven months pregnant with her second child. Let that sink in. Competing at an elite level, growing a human, and showing up with unstoppable energy and grace.
She said something that hit me hard: “I wake up, I do everything you’re doing—and then I do this too.”
That’s what so many women do—quietly, constantly, and without the fanfare. We carry the weight, then rise anyway. Femita’s story isn’t just about sports. It’s about resilience. It’s about rising to meet your purpose even when the odds say otherwise. And it’s about what happens when women are finally given the support they’ve always deserved—whether that’s a nursery at the Olympic Village, a running blade at 22, or a platform to share their story.
She reminded me that inspiration doesn’t have to come from someone who looks like you or lives like you. Sometimes it’s the people furthest from your lived experience who hit closest to home. Because determination, grit, and motherhood? Those transcend gender. They transcend sport. That’s what makes her story so universally powerful.
So no—I don’t play sports.
But I will always cheer for women like Femita. I will always believe in the power of showing up, pushing forward, and raising the bar.
And I’ll be watching when she competes again—pregnant, powerful, and proving, once again, that limits are meant to be broken.
We use cookies to understand site traffic and improve your experience. See our Privacy Policy.