The 2026 Winter Olympics kicked off in Milan on February 6th, and it seems that a new sport was added to the schedule: grovelling. After taking the bronze medal at the men’s 20 km biathlon, Norwegian athlete Sturla Holm Laegreid used his post-podium interview to reveal that he cheated on his former partner.
Speaking to Norwegian state broadcaster NRK, Laegreid said: "There's someone I wanted to share it with who might not be watching today. Six months ago, I met the love of my life - the most beautiful and kindest person in the world. Three months ago, I made my biggest mistake and cheated on her. I told her about it a week ago. It's been the worst week of my life.
"I had a gold medal in my life, and there are probably many who look at me with different eyes, but I only have eyes for her," he continued.
“I’m not ready to give up. I hope that committing social suicide [like this] might show her how much I love her. I accept the consequences of what I’ve done. I regret it with all my heart. Maybe I’m dumb as a rock. I’m a member of Mensa, but I still do stupid stuff.”
At first, this scene might seem like something straight out of a rom-com; a man ready to risk it all to win back the woman he loves. But really, it’s manipulative, selfish and incredibly unfair. It puts his ex on a global stage that she never asked to set foot on, without her permission, and adds pressure to an already heartbreaking situation. At the same time, the admission has seen Laegreid dominate headlines over his teammate Johan-Olav Botn’s Winter Olympics gold medal victory, something he has since apologised for.
This year sees the highest gender parity in Winter Olympics history.
So what did Laegreid hope to achieve with this so-called apology, which actually didn’t feature the words “I’m sorry” at all? Instead, he spoke about how bad he’d felt over the past week, how he was ready to commit social suicide (a questionable phrase in itself) and how he wasn’t ready to give up, all because of the consequences of his own actions. This spontaneous public confession wasn’t focused on his partner or her feelings. In fact, online speculation was so rife that she released the following anonymous statement through Norwegian outlet VG:
“It's hard to forgive. Even after a declaration of love in front of the whole world. I did not choose to be put in this position, and it hurts to have to be in it. We have had contact and he is aware of my opinions on this.”
Georgina Sturmer, BACP-accredited counsellor, explains that “we might be tempted to see this type of declaration as some kind of martyrdom. But the person who has done harm is centring themselves in the narrative – their guilt, their embarrassment, their remorse. This pulls the focus away from what’s really important, which is how the other person has been treated. It also removes any sense of privacy or dignity that they might have held onto, pushing something so deeply personal into such a public realm.”
As consultant psychologist Dr Louise Goddard-Crawley adds, “repair after infidelity requires containment, consent and privacy. When a confession happens on a global stage, the injured partner loses agency over their own experience. Even if the intention is love, the impact can feel like another layer of intrusion. Real accountability is usually quiet, repetitive and prioritises the harmed person’s needs, not the speaker’s relief.”
We’ve seen countless people in the public eye try to rush or force women to forgive or give in to them; think back to 2016 where Rihanna dodged a kiss from Drake when presenting her with the MTV Video Vanguard Award. The pair had a complicated relationship at the time, but Drake introduced her as “someone I have been in love with since I was 22 years old.” Another man faced criticism on social media in 2025 after proposing to his girlfriend as she crossed a marathon finish line, accused of stealing her limelight.
Nicole Ocran, author of the love and relationships newsletter A Crumb of Romance on Substack, agrees that Laegreid’s priorities have shifted in this situation: “We’re taught that romantic love and forgiveness relies on grand gestures, but that is the exception and not the rule. We can feel empathy for Laegreid’s transgression, understanding that we all make mistakes, but that pain is shared by someone who we can assume did not want the intimate details of her life broadcast on a global stage.”
Forgiveness isn’t immediate – it’s earned through behaviour change and rebuilding trust. At this point, we don’t know Laegreid’s true intentions. At worst, it’s a manipulation of a traumatic situation. At best, he was overcome with emotion and is deeply remorseful. What we do know, however, is that actions have consequences, and that this conversation probably should have been private – or better yet, never needed to happen at all.
