This month, we meet Jacqui Cooper, an Australian aerial skier, mother, and entrepreneur, who invites us to rethink our relationship with performance. Dive into this unfiltered conversation that deconstructs the myth of “having it all” to put transmission, resilience, and human connection back at the heart of success.

1) What does being a role model mean to you, both externally and internally? Do you see them as distinct roles?

For me, being a role model was never about standing on podiums or collecting titles. Externally, it meant showing people what commitment, resilience, and perseverance look like, especially after setbacks. In sport and business, people see the results, but I always hoped they also saw the years of hard work and the failures along the way.

Internally, within my family, being a role model feels more personal. It’s about showing up, being present, being kind, and living the values I talk about publicly. I do think there’s a difference between the two spaces, but I don’t think they’re separate identities. At the core, they come from the same place: integrity. Whether people are watching from the sidelines or sitting around your kitchen table, you want your actions to match your words.

2) You chose to focus on your career first and have children later. What helped you stay confident in your own timing?

Elite sport teaches you very quickly that timing must work for your journey, not everyone else’s. I spent years pursuing goals that required complete focus and commitment. I understood that if I wanted to reach my potential, I needed to give myself permission to do that fully.

Of course there are expectations, social ones, family ones, even your own internal pressures. But I learned that comparison is dangerous. I’d already built a career around doing things differently. I was competing in a sport where longevity wasn't always expected, especially for women. I trusted that there isn’t one timeline for life. Confidence came from knowing I was making decisions based on what felt right for me, not what looked right to others.

3) Once you became a mother, what belief about motherhood and leadership did you have to unlearn?

I had to unlearn the idea that being a leader means always being strong, always having answers, and always being in control.

As an athlete, I was used to pushing through discomfort and holding myself to incredibly high standards. Motherhood teaches you something very different. It teaches flexibility, vulnerability, and patience. I realised leadership isn’t about perfection; it’s about authenticity. Sometimes strength is admitting you're tired or asking for help.

4) What do you think about the idea that “you can’t have it all”?

I think we need to redefine what “having it all” means. If “having it all” means doing everything perfectly, at the same time, without sacrifice, then no, nobody has that. Men don’t. Women don’t.

But if it means creating a life that feels meaningful and aligned with your values, then yes, I think you absolutely can. Different chapters of life require different priorities. During some periods, my sport came first. In others, family has taken priority. Success isn't balancing every single day; it's understanding that life moves in seasons.

Women carry a lot of pressure around this idea, and I’d rather see us replace guilt with permission, permission to define success for ourselves.

5) As a mother, entrepreneur, and leader, how do you find fulfilment today? What makes the biggest difference?

Fulfilment today looks different than it did during my competitive years. Winning medals gave me incredible highs, but they were moments. Real fulfilment comes from impact and connection.

I find purpose in sharing experiences, mentoring others, helping people build resilience, and being present with my family. The biggest difference now is perspective. I’ve learned that achievement alone isn’t enough. Fulfilment comes from knowing why you're doing something and making sure success in one area of life doesn’t come at the expense of everything else.

At the end of the day, the moments that stay with you are rarely the medals. They’re the people.