Michael Phelps’ Wife: Former Miss California and Her Stunning Support in His Struggles

The Olympic legend Michael Phelps, known for his extraordinary accomplishments, never ceases to wow fans with his combination of personal charisma and physical brilliance.

A remarkable 28 Olympic medals, including an unparalleled 23 golds, have cemented Phelps’s place among the greatest sportsmen of all time.

Phelps, who was born in Baltimore, Maryland, on June 30, 1985, began swimming at a young age and went on to become a worldwide sports superstar. His outstanding Olympic accomplishments have established him as a champion of the highest order.

Whenever someone is discussing who the best Olympian of all time is, people like Usain Bolt, Carl Lewis, and Nadia Comaneci are usually mentioned.

But Michael Phelps is unrivaled in terms of the sheer quantity of medals. His twenty-three gold medals exceed the amount of the majority of Olympians, including some accomplished swimmers.

Other than the likes of Jenny Thompson, Matt Biondi, and Mark Spitz, no swimmer has ever achieved the historic number of gold medals that Michael Phelps has.

Beyond his in-pool accomplishments, Phelps has won love and respect from people all across the world. Devoted followers have flooded his Instagram with comments, referring to him as their “idol” and “legend.” Some have even confessed to having a “crush” or being “obsessed” with him.

Even though Phelps has had a fantastic sporting career, the public is also fascinated by his personal life. Upon accepting his awards for Best Record-Breaking Performance and Best Male U.S. Olympic Athlete at the ESPY Awards, Michael Phelps conveyed his happiness in commemorating these events with his family. He has a special place in his heart for the ESPY Awards because he met his wife, Nicole Johnson, there more than ten years ago.

Nicole Johnson is not just gorgeous; she has been a staunch advocate for Michael Phelps. She has demonstrated her dedication to their shared objectives by actively participating as an Ambassador for the Michael Phelps Foundation since 2015.

Johnson has a history in modeling and beauty pageants, and VC Star lists Miss California USA as one of her accomplishments in 2010. In addition, she placed second in the Miss California National Teenager competition in 2004 and placed in the top 15 during her debut compete at Miss California USA in 2006.

Viewers have observed Johnson’s grace in the pictures Phelps posts on social media. She is regularly praised by admirers who call her “cute,” “pretty,” and “absolutely beautiful.” Fans admire the couple for their close bond and remarkable appearances; they value their bond just as much as Phelps’s sporting achievements.

Nicole Johnson is an important source of support for Michael Phelps despite his outward look. She helps him deal with his worry and melancholy. Phelps has been open about his struggles with mental health and frequently gives his wife credit for her unwavering support.

Nobody else could provide me with the kind of support that she has. In an interview with Today, Phelps said, “She’s the glue that holds all of us together.”

Phelps and Johnson are parenting Boomer, Beckett, Maverick, and Nico, their newest kid, together.

I Woke up to My Husband Mumbling in His Sleep – When He Finished His ‘Speech,’ I Immediately Ran to Our Garage

When I woke to my husband mumbling in his sleep, I thought it was just another strange dream. But his words, “She’s in my garage right now. You can go down and find her there,” sent a chill through me, leading to a discovery that changed everything.

It started with a whisper. I was half-asleep when I heard murmured words tumbling from Robert’s lips.

A sleepless woman in her bed | Source: Midjourney

A sleepless woman in her bed | Source: Midjourney

“Yes, officer,” he said, his voice barely above a mumble. “It’s completely my fault. She’s in my garage right now. You can go down and find her there.”

My eyes shot open.

At first, I thought I’d misheard him. But then, he rolled over, still muttering something unintelligible. My heart began to race. Who was in the garage? What was he talking about?

A serious sleepless woman in her bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A serious sleepless woman in her bedroom | Source: Midjourney

Robert wasn’t the type to keep secrets. He was kind, dependable, and, well, predictable. We’d been married five years.

He used to work as a veterinarian, but last year, he opened a 24-hour café in the next town. It had been his dream, though it kept him out late most nights.

A man working in his cafe | Source: Pexels

A man working in his cafe | Source: Pexels

Earlier that evening, he texted me to say he’d be home late and told me to go to bed without him. That was odd. He rarely worked past midnight. But I didn’t think much of it at the time. Now, as I lay in the dark, his words hung in the air.

I sat up in bed and glanced at him. He looked peaceful, his chest rising and falling with each breath. Maybe I should just wake him and ask what he meant. But the way his words sounded so serious, almost guilty, stopped me.

A man sleeping | Source: Pexels

A man sleeping | Source: Pexels

I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him, and tiptoed toward the door.

The hallway was quiet. Shadows stretched across the floor, and the only sound was the faint hum of the refrigerator downstairs. My mind raced with possibilities. Could someone really be in the garage?

A woman walking in her hallway | Source: Midjourney

A woman walking in her hallway | Source: Midjourney

I reached the top of the stairs and paused. My hand rested on the railing, and for a moment, I considered going back to bed. Maybe it was just a dream. But what if it wasn’t?

As I descended the stairs, the cold air from the garage seeped under the door, making me shiver. The closer I got, the more I felt a tightness in my chest.

A door in the hallway | Source: Midjourney

A door in the hallway | Source: Midjourney

The door to the garage creaked as I opened it.

Inside, it was darker than I expected. The single bulb above the workbench barely lit the room, casting long shadows over the concrete floor.

Robert’s car sat in the middle of the space, its hood dented. My breath caught.

A dented car | Source: Midjourney

A dented car | Source: Midjourney

That wasn’t there yesterday.

The air smelled faintly of oil and something musky and wild.

Then I heard it.

A low, rasping sound, like heavy breathing, coming from the far corner of the garage. My body froze, and for a moment, I couldn’t move. The sound was rhythmic, almost like an animal panting.

A nervous woman in a garage | Source: Midjourney

A nervous woman in a garage | Source: Midjourney

“Hello?” I whispered, my voice trembling.

No response.

I forced myself to take a step forward. Then another. My feet felt like lead as I moved closer to the corner.

A nervous woman | Source: Midjourney

A nervous woman | Source: Midjourney

As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw a small, shadowy figure curled up on a pile of blankets. It didn’t move at first, but as I got closer, I could make out its shape.

It was a fox.

Its reddish fur was matted, and its body seemed frail. It lifted its head slightly, its dark eyes meeting mine. The shallow and labored breathing I’d heard was coming from the fox.

A fox sleeping in a garage | Source: Midjourney

A fox sleeping in a garage | Source: Midjourney

Relief washed over me. It wasn’t a person. But then, a new wave of worry set in. Why was there an injured fox in my garage?

I crouched down, careful not to get too close. The fox’s ears twitched, and it let out a soft whimper.

“You poor thing,” I murmured.

A fox looking up | Source: Midjourney

A fox looking up | Source: Midjourney

It looked so weak and could barely hold itself up.

I stood and backed away slowly, my mind spinning with questions. That’s when I decided to head to the kitchen. Maybe some water would help. Maybe…

I turned toward the door, leaving the fox in the corner, and quietly made my way back inside the house.

A woman in a garage | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a garage | Source: Midjourney

I poured water into a shallow bowl and headed back toward the garage, my mind still reeling. As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I nearly dropped the bowl.

Robert stood there, rubbing his eyes, his hair sticking up in every direction. “What are you doing up?” he asked, his voice groggy.

I froze for a second, unsure how to start. “Uh… there’s a fox. In the garage.”

A sleepy man in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A sleepy man in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

His eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked like a kid caught sneaking cookies. “You saw her?”

“Her?” I raised an eyebrow. “Robert, what is going on?”

He sighed and leaned against the counter, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, okay. Don’t freak out. I was driving home, and this fox darted out onto the road. I didn’t see her in time. I hit her.”

A sad man in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A sad man in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“You hit her?” My voice rose. “With the car?”

“Yes,” he said quickly, holding up his hands. “It wasn’t too bad — just a bump. She was still alive, so I took her to the clinic where I used to work. They checked her out and said she’d be fine, but she needed to be watched for a few days.”

A man holding a fox | Source: Midjourney

A man holding a fox | Source: Midjourney

“Robert…” I started, but he cut me off.

“I know, I know. You hate the idea of animals in the house. But she wouldn’t stop crying when I tried to leave her there. I couldn’t just leave her. You know how much I love animals.”

I softened a little at his tone. He sounded so earnest, so guilty.

A smiling woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, setting the bowl of water on the counter.

“I didn’t want to wake you. And then I figured it might be better to, uh, explain later.”

I crossed my arms. “So you brought her home and decided to stash her in the garage?”

He grinned sheepishly. “I panicked.”

A man with a small smile talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man with a small smile talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

Despite myself, I laughed. “You panicked?”

“Yeah. And I guess that explains the weird dream about the cop,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “I must’ve been stressed about the car damage. In my dream, they were accusing me of hitting a person!”

The police questioning a man | Source: Midjourney

The police questioning a man | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t help but laugh again, shaking my head. “You’re impossible, Robert.”

He stepped closer, his expression softening. “I’m sorry. Really. I just couldn’t leave her. I thought I’d take care of her for a few days and then release her. If you want, I can take her somewhere else tomorrow.”

A happy couple talking | Source: Midjourney

A happy couple talking | Source: Midjourney

I looked at him, at the way his shoulders sagged under the weight of his guilt. “Let’s just make sure she’s okay for now. But you owe me big time.”

His face lit up. “Deal.”

A smiling man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

The next few days were a whirlwind of learning how to care for a wild animal. We took turns feeding the fox small amounts of food and making sure she had plenty of water. Robert even dug out an old space heater to keep the garage warm for her.

At first, I kept my distance, letting Robert handle most of the care. But one evening, as I was checking on her, the fox lifted her head and let out a soft, almost thankful sound. It melted something in me.

A woman sitting next to a fox | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting next to a fox | Source: Midjourney

“She likes you,” Robert said, leaning in the doorway.

“Maybe,” I said, smiling.

By the end of the week, the fox was stronger. She could stand and even walk a few steps. Robert and I would sit in the garage, watching as she cautiously explored her little corner.

A fox walking | Source: Midjourney

A fox walking | Source: Midjourney

“You’re really good with her,” I told him one night.

He shrugged. “It’s nothing. I just… I’ve always felt a connection to animals, you know? They don’t expect much — just kindness.”

I nodded, realizing for the first time how much his love for animals said about his character.

A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

Two weeks later, it was time to let her go.

We drove to a nearby forest where Robert had hit her, the fox nestled in a crate in the backseat. She seemed calm. It was as if she knew what was happening.

When we opened the crate, she hesitated for a moment before stepping out. She sniffed the air, then turned to look at us.

A fox coming out of the crate | Source: Midjourney

A fox coming out of the crate | Source: Midjourney

“Go on,” Robert said softly.

The fox took a few steps, then stopped. She turned back and, to my surprise, nuzzled her head against Robert’s leg before darting into the trees.

I blinked back tears. “She’s going to be okay, isn’t she?”

Robert nodded. “Yeah. She’ll be okay.”

A happy couple in the woods | Source: Midjourney

A happy couple in the woods | Source: Midjourney

From that day on, we made it a habit to visit the forest. Each time, the fox would appear, bounding through the underbrush to greet us. She’d rub against our legs, her way of saying thank you.

Looking back, I never would’ve imagined that a sleepless night and a strange mumbling dream would lead to a bond with a wild fox and a deeper connection to the man I married.

A fox nuzzling against a man's feet | Source: Midjourney

A fox nuzzling against a man’s feet | Source: Midjourney

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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