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A Historic Moment: ISU Opens the Door for Same-Sex Pairs in Competitive Figure Skating
March 2024-Lausanne, Switzerland- In a groundbreaking move that marks a new era for figure skating, the International Skating Union (ISU) announced yesterday the long-awaited rule change for the inclusion of same-sex pairs in all ISU-sanctioned events with immediate effect. Where previously a pair was defined as a female and male skater, pairs can now consist of all gender combinations, eligible to compete alongside the traditional pairs in all major international events.
In the official announcement, the ISU stated that they are “recognising the evolution of the sport and the growing demand for inclusivity, [and are] committed to upholding the core principles of fairness, athletic excellence, and artistic expression, regardless of gender composition.”
This bold step forward has been met with widespread enthusiasm across the skating community – skaters, coaches, and fans alike. In recent years, the lack of such change had become an increasing point of critique; now, even beyond the skating world, the decision has drawn praise for reinforcing the sport’s commitment to inclusivity and progress.
While now all pair compositions are allowed for competition, the ruling system will not change, and the ISU has marked that the same technical and artistic criteria will apply as in traditional pair teams. All elements such as the mandatory lifts, twists, throw jumps, and death spirals “will be evaluated purely on execution and difficulty and artistry, without gender-based differentiation,” emphasising a fair and competitive environment. Additionally, the ISU Council instigated an advisory panel for the upcoming season to oversee the transition and to ensure a seamless implementation.
This change is expected to introduce fresh dynamics into pair skating, pushing the boundaries of what is possible on the ice.
For years, figure skating has captivated audiences with its combination of breathtaking athleticism and artistic expression. But now, with this decision, the sport is poised to embrace even greater diversity in its competitive field, paving the way for innovation, broader athlete representation, and new technical possibilities.
With the ice as their stage and history in the making, the world now waits to witness the upcoming 2024/2025 season, a new era of figure skating inspiring future generations—one where the only limits are those of artistry, ambition, and the sheer brilliance of human connection.
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When Jisung had woken up that morning, he would never have expected his day to go that way, his training cut short. Instead, he was now seated in an office chair, barely registering the words said.
After so many years of rivalry—half-spoken insults, death glares across competitions—hating Minho and that damn perfection he stood for was second nature to Jisung. In fact, it came as easily as skating itself.
So, when he barely heard through the blood rushing in his ears words along the line of “ISU… Same-Sex-Pairs… Minho and you… partner together,” Jisung shut down completely.
Now he knew why Mrs Choi had made him promise to listen with that look on her face that seemed to say don’t try me boy, and told him to seriously think about it. But absolutely not.
No matter what, Jisung would not pair up with Lee Minho to compete with him in the upcoming season. It was not in their nature to cooperate – they were destined to compete against each other, never partnering to win together.
He still hadn’t stomached the fact that he had lost Worlds to Minho just by 0.63 points. That absolute fucker, who had had the nerve to change his triple Flip-triple Toeloop to a triple Lutz-triple Toeloop last minute after Jisung’s turn, even after doing his normal combination in practice; Minho’s eyes finding his own from the ice rink, chest heaving and still in his final pose, shooting him such a menacing smirk – as to say, you can’t do anything and now I won – so hideous that Jisung could have started a fight then and there. He hadn’t even needed to wait for the scores to pop up to know that Minho had won over him, again.
Thinking of him, he snapped his head to look around the room. He could see Minho’s usual calculated and blank face, harsh light casting shadows on his high cheekbones as he was seated ever so perfectly postured in the chair.
But his eyes had always been the one thing that betrayed his disdain, no matter how uninterested he looked; he caught Jisung’s gaze for a second before his eyes darted away to glare at Seungmin, Minho’s poor manager. It was enough for Jisung to catch the look of utter repulsion and, honestly, that pissed him off even more than the offensive offer he was being made.
Paired with Minho’s taunting voice, “Lost for words?” Lazily fixing his sharp eyes on him, Jisung wanted to explode.
He was a two-time Grand Prix champion, for God’s sake, not some bumbling beginner, and Minho dismissing his excellence was the final straw in that ridiculous situation, breaking through the haze in his brain.
Venom dripping from his words, Jisung spat out, “No, I was just thinking of a better way to decline, but absolutely not will have to do,” matching Minho simultaneously hissing in Seungmin’s direction, “I’d rather die than skate with him,” absentmindedly pointing a finger in Jisung’s general direction.
Not waiting for another breath, Jisung turned to get out of the room as fast as possible, ignoring the disappointed look his coach shot him. He would hear about this, no doubt.
The day was proving to be way worse than he could have anticipated, his training barely useful without a partner and with slim chances of finding someone for the season. His triple Axel was unstable again, making his head pound from the critique Mrs Choi had hurled at him, but this – this was the absolute worst. Jisung wanted to scream.
As expected, he didn’t come far until he was pulled back: long, slender fingers wrapped around his wrist, and surprisingly strong arms dragged him into the next office. The door was thrown shut behind him so hard that Jisung felt the gust of wind rustling his hair.
It didn’t take another second before Mrs Choi was in his face, screaming, “Are you absolutely out of your mind?”
And maybe he was, after his partner Yuna had suffered yet another ankle fracture in practice two weeks before, ending her amateur career for real this time.
Jisung knew as well as any other skater that the probability of finding someone for the next season that late on his technical level was near zero. Someone compatible. Which a certain someone was certainly not.
Competing with Minho was a ludicrous idea: Jisung wouldn’t trust him to be alone with his lunch, not putting it past Minho to poison it, lest he would trust Minho to skate with him, throwing him in the air and actually catching him.
The screaming didn’t stop, Mrs Choi’s face getting red from the lack of oxygen. “Now that the ISU legalised same-sex pairs, Minho is your only chance to skate next season at a decent level, and you know that,” she reprimanded him, poking her pointy finger hard into his chest until it hurt.
Yes, he had read the news last night, the articles were all over the internet. It had come as a pleasant surprise; he hadn’t expected the ISU to actually listen to the demands this time around. The sport was notoriously stuck in the past, he knew that better than most, being queer himself.
For a second he had even entertained the thought of finding another man to skate with, but with the enormous lack of male partners, finding someone fitting was even more unlikely than finding a female partner, so he had discarded that thought as quickly as it came. But still, partnering with Minho, that would be like fraternising with the devil. He still hadn’t given up hope that there was someone else apart from Minho.
Jisung suddenly felt his body being rattled, sharp-nailed fingers digging uncomfortably into the soft flesh of his shoulders, breaking him from his thoughts, the next angry words already hitting his ears: “Actually, you can be glad if Minho, as the reigning world champion, would take you, you lost to him after all. Maybe this whole thing will finally teach you some of his style. You can never compare, no matter how often I tell you to change.”
Jisung let himself be shaken, body limp in her grasp, unmoving eyes focused on his trainer’s face. The words stung, burning in his heart: she always did this, comparing him to Minho, and there was nothing he hated more.
“You would be so dumb to throw away this chance. If you don’t compete this season, you are done for, all those years will all have been for nothing, so get your ass back into that office, smile nicely and accept that offer, you foolish boy. Minho’s doing you a favour, not the other way around. You would do well to remember that!”
And again, those words were not a surprise. All his wins were never enough. It did nothing to lessen the sting of hearing it again and again because it rang true.
As much as it sucked to admit it, Minho had been better at Worlds, even if it had been less than a point between them. His coach was right. Minho was probably his only chance at competing again in the foreseeable future with any chance for medals.
For his career, Jisung could consider sucking up. This was all he could do, all he had worked for. He had to skate. Even if this plan was absolutely ridiculous, he had to try. He couldn’t give up now and disappoint himself even more. At least he and Minho would have their mutual hate in common.
Plus, he could finally get rid of his friends' comments about how they would make a superior pair if they just blended their style (ridiculous, right?). Seungmin had just said it again too in a weak attempt to convince them. So, either they were right, or Jisung would have the sole right to choose the place for their monthly dinner for a year straight.
Apart from that, Mrs Choi wouldn’t stop screaming at him until he accepted, and Jisung knew, deep down, he would. He could do one season of relearning the sport with Minho.
So, he peeled her fingers from his shoulders and left a stunted Mrs Choi behind as he made his way back to the office to face the literal bane of his existence.