Sam Phillips Is Flipping The Script On Gymnastics And Masculinity
Sam Phillips didn’t grow up seeing athletes like him. He remembers watching national competitions and Olympic events where queerness existed in the shadows, unspoken but understood. It wasn’t something you brought to the floor. Now 23 and flipping in full view, Phillips is rewriting that playbook one routine at a time, and in a recent interview with Into, he shared exactly why visibility matters.
Raised in Los Angeles, Phillips spent his early years flipping wherever he could— sidewalks, backyards, even his grandma’s house in Chicago. With two older brothers already in sports, his parents needed an outlet for his energy. Gymnastics was the obvious move.
“It became my second home,” he said in the interview. “I felt free to just flip and be myself.”
Phillips eventually became a team captain and two-time All-American at the University of Nebraska. But before all that came the challenge of being seen — not just as an athlete, but as a Black, queer man.
“Going to Nebraska, I was back in a place that lacked diversity,” he said. “Some people hadn’t even met someone who was Black and queer before.”
Rather than shrink back, he leaned in. His approach wasn’t about calling people out. It was about calling them in.
He knows how to perform. His floor routines don’t hold back on attitude, and he’s known for throwing in a death drop or an extra bounce of sass during celebrations. A post-routine lip sync to No Bars by JT went viral and earned him over a million views and a repost from SZA.
“It just allowed me to express myself. People connect with that,” he said.
The femininity isn’t a gimmick. For Phillips, it’s an extension of what gymnastics means to him — movement that’s grounded in self-awareness and instinct.
“Gymnastics is spiritual for me. When you’re connected to yourself, you know what feels right in your body. That makes your gymnastics better.”
Bigger, Louder, Queerer
At six feet tall with a muscular build, Phillips breaks the mould of what people expect from a gymnast. He uses that to his advantage.
“I love making people question their perception of gender norms,” he said. “I do all the masculine events. I celebrate, I scream — but I also do feminine things. And I love that duality.”
He isn’t shy about his goals, either. Currently studying for his master’s in management at the University of Illinois, Phillips suffered a torn Achilles this year, but still found ways to support his team off the mat. He’s already announced his return for the 2026 season.
His bigger plan? A run for the 2028 Olympics in his hometown of LA.
“Even if I don’t make the national team before then, I’ve got to try,” he said. “The time will pass anyway. I just want to walk away knowing I went for it.”
Beyond the Mat
Outside of sport, Phillips is keeping his options open. Modelling is on the list “I want to be a Calvin Klein model!” and he’s also interested in acting and directing.
No matter what comes next, gymnastics has already shaped the way he sees himself. And for other athletes wondering if they should show up fully, Phillips has some advice:
“It’s like stepping into cold water,” he said. “You might want to run away at first. But then people start congratulating you, hugging you, talking to you.”
“It gets better. You’ll regret it if you hide who you are.”
“We only get one life and a small amount of time on this earth,” he said. “So just make sure you’re living the most out of it.”
