How does Olivia Dunne’s life look now? On a sunlit Saturday, April 6, Olivia Dunne twirled through the white sands of Hutchinson Beach South, not with a gymnast’s focus but with a young woman’s carefree stride. She had just wrapped up her first semester of grad school and shared the update in a breezy TikTok, walking toward a beach bar with the promise of a piña colada. “First semester grad school done, house hunting at the beach, bought a nyc apt, and walking to get a pina colada life is sweet like cinnamon,” she wrote, a nod to Lana Del Rey and the sweet simplicity of her new chapter.

No more chalk dust, no more beam routines—just ocean air, open dreams, and a little real estate sprinkled in. The girl once seen rocking up in leotards and LSU purple was now trading flips for floorplans and making moves—literally. Yet, while Olivia seemed to be living a life curated with equal parts ambition and aesthetic, not everyone was cheering from the sidelines.

Fast forward to May 9. Olivia posted a playful TikTok, impersonating her boyfriend, MLB pitcher Paul Skenes. She mimicked his windup, capped it with her signature hand-folding flair, and wore his baseball cap like a crown. ““You’re so dramatic” literally him pitching,” the on-screen text joked. In the caption, she added with a wink, “Straight gas. #foryou #baseball #mlb #pitcher.” The clip, lighthearted and clearly affectionate, was met with laughs, likes—and, as always, a few hecklers.

One troll slithered into the comments with a sharp jab: “Now that gymnastics and college is over, she will live through her “boyfriends” success.” But Livvy Dunne wasn’t about to let that narrative take root. Her clapback was swift, sharp, and laced with the same confidence she once brought to every tumbling pass: “And you’re definitely chronically on Reddit so who’s rlly winning.” It was classic Dunne—poised, witty, and unbothered. The whispers may never stop. But while debate swirls in comment sections and Reddit threads, one thing remains beyond question: Olivia Dunne is unapologetically in Paul Skenes’ corner.

Last week, the stands at PNC Park held a familiar face. Livvy strolled into the stadium to watch the Pirates face off against the Chicago Cubs, dressed in a sleek black crop top and flared jeans—casual, confident, and unmistakably present. Her Instagram story said it all, just one word: “Gameday.” It was simple. It was loyal. And it spoke volumes.

Skenes didn’t have the standout performance many had hoped for. The Pirates fell short, the game slipping from their grasp. But Olivia’s post wasn’t about stats or scoreboards. It was about showing up, about standing by someone, win or lose. Well, this wasn’t new territory for her. Livvy’s faced this type of scrutiny before—whispers that try to shrink her identity into someone else’s shadow. Yet time and time again, she’s made it clear: she may be with Paul Skenes, but she’s not defined by him.

Olivia Dunne faces sharp words from trolls 

Back in April, as the world of college gymnastics barreled into its postseason frenzy, Olivia Dunne found herself in a different kind of arena—the comment section of TikTok.

She had just posted a behind-the-scenes clip from her GQ photoshoot. The video shimmered with golden-hour lighting, confidence, and couture, a far cry from chalk-stained mats and tight meet schedules. It was clear Livvy was stepping into a new era. But, as always, the trolls trailed behind. One comment tried to drag her back to the past. “can’t wait to see you still playing college in 2030,” someone snarked, perhaps thinking they’d struck a nerve. They hadn’t.

Olivia didn’t flinch. With the ease of someone who’d already closed that chapter and tossed the book in the ocean, she fired back: “I am not ever doing gymnastics again don’t worry 🔥.” There it was—no uncertainty, no teasing comebacks. Just a firm, fiery period at the end of her gymnastics story. And less than two weeks later, on April 21, she made it official. The girl who once spun through the air and racked up millions of followers as LSU’s golden girl had taken her final bow from the sport. No long farewell. No bittersweet montages. Just a clean exit and a clear message: she’s onto bigger things—and she’s not looking back.