Tom Daley Reflects on Career, Grief, Coming Out and Fatherhood

Tom Daley, born in Plymouth in 1994, is Britain’s most decorated diver. He made history at age 13 as Britain’s youngest competitor at the 2008 Olympics and became world champion the following year. Daley won gold at the Tokyo Olympics with synchronized diving partner Matty Lee before retiring in 2024. He is married to screenwriter Dustin Lance Black and has two sons. The documentary ‘Tom Daley: 1.6 Seconds’ streams on Discovery+ from June 1.

“I used to be obsessed with wearing tea towels,” Daley said. “I’d make sure the fabric was completely lined-up and tucked in neatly. If it was in the slightest bit ruffled or messy, I would get upset and rip it off and try it all over again. This was the beginning of my perfectionism – and possibly the first signs that I might not be 100% straight.”

“My mum says that as a kid, I was very sweet but I knew what I wanted,” Daley said. He wanted to do the best he could at anything he tried, a mentality he still holds. “If I’m going to try something and it doesn’t work out perfectly, I don’t have tantrums any more, but I do get frustrated. That’s the thing about being an athlete: being good is not enough – you have to be the best. It’s not something you can teach, but every athlete who gets to an Olympic level has that same drive. We know our flaws before anybody else can point them out.”

Daley started diving at age seven. “I loved the water but found swimming up and down a little bit boring – diving was much more fun.” He started jumping off the side of the pool, then tried the one-meter. The first time he attempted the 10-meter platform at age eight, he recalled crawling to the edge because he was too scared to walk. “The board seemed to reduce in size with every step and suddenly looked like a tightrope. I was peering off into the water, thinking: ‘There’s no way I can jump off this.’ But once I was in the air, there was no going back. It was a surreal and euphoric moment – freefalling for 1.6 seconds. As soon as it was over, I knew I wanted to do it again.”

“My childhood was brilliant,” Daley said. He was always outdoors, and his family took weekends away in their caravan in Newquay. “I felt very safe, loved and cared for.” Because he was so happy with his family, he hated traveling for competitions and got homesick. “It was terrifying to be on the other side of the planet from your parents when you’re 10 years old – especially when everyone else competing was much older. I can’t imagine how painful it was for my parents to hear their son crying on the end of the phone.”

His father Rob was his biggest cheerleader. “He would work all day, pick me up from school, take me to the pool and stay all evening until I finished training. He would be there for every competition. We were a team, and it was our dream together.” His father taught him perspective: “If I bombed out at a competition, he would say: ‘You came 30th, but you’re still the 30th best in the world.'”

When his father died of a brain tumor in 2011, Daley went to training the next morning and continued competing without a proper break. “Maybe it’s a British thing, but me and my family wouldn’t speak about his passing that much. It’s as if we didn’t want to upset anyone, or make them feel uncomfortable.” He felt he had to be the strong one to support his family. “It was only when I met my husband Lance, and he would ask why I didn’t speak about my dad, that I allowed myself the space to grieve. And it still hits me now, especially when those major milestones happen. He missed me winning my first Olympic medal, my wedding, my first son’s birth.”

Daley met Lance at a dinner in 2013. “We talked and talked until we both realized how similar our lives were. He had just lost his brother; I’d lost my dad. He had just won his Oscar; I had just won an Olympic medal.” It was the first time he could complain about success to someone who understood. “I was complaining about how to deal with what happens on the other side – the pressure and expectations. Knowing that nothing would ever compare to that feeling again.”

Daley came out to the media nine months after meeting Lance. “I don’t think I would ever have said anything about my private life unless I had met someone like Lance. Once we fell in love, I knew I couldn’t keep it a secret.” He posted a video on YouTube, which was “absolutely terrifying” because his management at the time discouraged it, saying he would lose sponsorship. “It was a scary thing to do, but once it was out there I was glad. It took all of the pressure off. I could be me for the first time.”

In 2024, Daley competed at the Paris Olympics with his sons in tow. “Being a dad was still my priority, so I had to deal with running on low sleep.” He went to bed at 8 p.m. because he didn’t know how many times he’d be up in the night. He woke early for training but made sure to be home to help Lance with bedtime. “I always found it incredibly difficult to leave them for competitions, and I carried a sense of guilt with me. My husband is so supportive, and he’s sacrificed a lot for me. But now I’ve retired, it’s his moment. He’s like: ‘It’s my turn to get my career back on track!'”

“I have been an athlete for most of my life, so it’s taking time to adjust to my new reality.” He is so used to discipline that even at dinner on a Saturday night, when someone offers wine, it takes a second to realize he is allowed. Food is the same. Before the 2012 Olympics, a coach told him he needed to lose weight, leading to eating disorders. “At the time it was something that men didn’t really speak about, so I kept it to myself and felt very alone.” With proper nutritional support, he recovered. “But in truth, that feedback still affects me today. I know how I can look, and how I did feel, at my peak. Now that I’m not training six hours a day, six days a week, I am never going to be in that same form.”

“When I look at this photo, I think about how innocent I look,” Daley said. “The boy in the photo has no sense of what society thinks is right or wrong. I could live and be happy and free.” He added: “I am so glad my parents were the kind of people who celebrated whoever I was; an Olympian diver or a boy who liked to wear tea towels around his waist.”