JAY RICCOMINI

“My mom had her breast implants done eight years ago by the same surgeon that did my top surgery,” laughed USA Freeskier Jay Riccomini. That sums up the young trans-Olympic hopeful—bold and unapologetically carving his own path. His journey is one of big risks, bigger air, and the biggest leap: embracing life as a trans man in a sport that isn’t exactly caught up with the times. But no matter how big the jump, Riccomini angles to stick the landing.

By the time Riccomini turned two, he was mastering his pizza-to-French-fry technique between his dad’s legs, barely able to toddle off skis. However, in South Carolina, the closest “local” ski resort was across state lines. So when his family moved to Pennsylvania, the commute to snow got a lot shorter. “There’s much more access to skiing there,” explained Riccomini. “And we did tons and tons of trips out west of Colorado. That’s how I got introduced to park skiing.”

The park wasn’t exactly something Riccomini sought, rather it was somewhere he ended up as he followed his brother around the resort. “One day my brother was like, Jay, do this. And I was like, okay. At first, I didn’t notice I liked [park skiing]. I just did because my brother told me to,” he laughed.

Riccomini grew up as many young boys do, idolizing his older brother, and it wasn’t just skiing. Watching his brother play lacrosse and football, Riccomini fell in love with the grittiness of full-contact sports. Unfortunately for Riccomini, in women’s divisions, tackling is typically a no-go.

That was the appeal of skiing: no gendered rules. The mountain didn’t care who Riccomini was when he tumbled around. “With skiing, it didn’t matter. It was the same across all boards.”

He continued to ski in his brother’s tracks until his 10th birthday when the whole family traveled to Colorado for Spring Break. What gift did Riccomini want more than anything else? A private ski lesson with a guy named Dean. “He basically got me started on pursuing [freeskiing] professionally,” said Riccomini. “He skied with me and told my parents, this kid’s good. You should pursue it.”

His parents listened, and later that year registered Riccomini for his first competition: a New Year’s Eve rail jam. “I’m sure my parents asked me if I wanted to, but I don’t remember a moment like that,” he laughed. “I remember being thrown into and winning my first-ever competition.”

In 7th grade, Jay felt ready to full send his ski career. He moved to Colorado and took classes online so he could hit the slopes every day. “That year, I progressed so much. I had done two nationals before that, and wasn’t able to podium,” he recalled. “I wanted that slopestyle medal so bad and I trained so hard. [Then] one day at Keystone, I learned how to do a 360 mute grab, and I would just tweak it so hard. That trick got me my first medal at nationals.”

He laughed, “I did that trick nonstop for six weeks straight before nationals.”

Entering high school, Riccomini was growing as a skier and as a person. It soon became clear that he didn’t fully relate to the girls at his school or on the slopes. “I always felt a lot different from cis women,” he explained. “Skiing was definitely an escape for me. It gave me the ability to be myself. And it’s a male-dominated sport, so you’re surrounded by guys. I felt very included, or at least I fit in better.”

In his Junior year, Riccomini made two big changes. First, he enrolled at the Winter Sports School so his winters would be wide open for skiing. Second, he came out as a trans man. “After I came out, more people called me she, and I was like, are you guys even trying,” he said, rolling his eyes. “[Sometimes] I think I passed more when I was 14 years old than I do now.”

But living authentically brought joy, and that joy fueled his skiing. “Now I definitely have a way more developed style,” he reflected. “I think that comes with growing older and becoming more comfortable with myself. Feeling more at home.”

It didn’t take too long after coming out for Riccomini to opt for top surgery. As he explained, “I have [skied with a binder] too much. And skiing with tape on sucks. I’d put it on, and because I’d sweat, and be twisting and turning so much. It would just rip off. It was not fun.”

He continued, “I got pretty used to it and tried not to think about it, but landing off jumps and rails was pretty bad. Having a binder on and getting the wind knocked out of you is like- I would never wish that on anyone. It is quite gnarly.”

Recovery from top surgery, if it goes well, is a six-week process. For a professional athlete, electing six weeks of recovery, aka no training, was aberrant. But as Riccomini explained:

“Even if something went terribly wrong, and I was never able to ski again, that was a sacrifice I was willing to make. It was just so important to me. It was worth the risk and worth the time and the effort.”

Riccomini did not, in fact, have to sacrifice his passion. Instead, 8-weeks post-op he was training at Whistler with a weight off his chest and a smile on his face.

In his time competing, the young skier has been stacking up wins: Rev Tour podiums in Slopestyle, Big Air, and Halfpipe. The NorAm Cup wins. Some Big Air victories at Stoneham. And now, he’s eyeing the 2026 Olympics.

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be the only trans athlete at the 2026 Olympics that’s actively competing,” he said. “That’s a big pedestal to stand on. You’re representing so many people. Going to the Olympics is sick, but [being able to represent the trans community]? That is incredibly special to me.”

Currently, Riccomini’s gender-affirming care does not include testosterone. That means for the 2026 games, he will compete in the Olympic Women’s division. It is a similar situation faced by non-binary runner Nikki Hiltz in 2024, and non-binary skateboarder Alana Smith in 2021. Both faced misgendering during their competitions, and were met with a general air of uncertainty at their respective events. To summarize: the Olympics handle trans-ness about as well as that one confused great-uncle at holiday dinners.

Riccomini expanded, “Individual sport is such a lonely road. There are allies, but being a trans person in an individual sport, it’s really lonely. You work your butt off and don’t get support from your peers most of the time. Then as a trans person, everyone’s learning, and I’m there to educate them [which means] dealing with their crazy questions.”

However, Riccomini recognizes he is lucky to compete and feel comfortable in his gender presentation. “I’m very blessed that it’s the case and that I am comfortable enough to [exist and compete with my current gender-affirming care]. But it’s much different for trans women in sports.”

“My biggest thing [moving forward] is that I want to be an ally to trans women in sports. Be there to help defend them and show up for them because they don’t have a whole lot of people willing to show up for them.”

For now, Riccomini is getting ready to lock in for a summer full of training. “It’s going to be no joke working 24/7 towards one goal,” he explained. “My path [to the Olympics] is already looking really good right now. So I just have to stay healthy and be laid back.”

Of course, the Olympic gold isn’t the only podium he has his eyes set on. “I definitely want to go to X-games and I’d love to win a Crystal Globe at some point. It would be sick.”

But most important to Riccomini is fostering a sense of community among trans skiers. “I want to do a huge trans skier meet up. As many trans skiers as we can pile into one resort at the same time would be incredible. Just get people from all over the world, come in, sleep on my couch, sleep in my spare,” he laughed. “Let’s bunk up. Bring your sleeping pads. Let’s shove as many people into my two-bedroom condo as we can for a long weekend of skiing.”

And finally, Riccomini’s review of top surgery?

“Ten out of ten. More than that. A hundred out of ten. Incredible experience. I can’t imagine still having tits.”