Whether it be Musical Theatre, choir, or athletics, most high school students dedicate their time to a particular extracurricular that they love.
For me, that was golf. It has been embedded in the roots of my family since my father became a golf professional in 1996.
While I’ve known how to play since I could walk, my dedication and commitment to the sport began in my early middle school years. I have also played alongside the San Marin girls golf team since my freshman year.
Golf is a very simple game, just get the ball on the green and in the hole, but simple doesn’t always mean easy.
My whole life, I’ve been surrounded by people interested in my golf journey, whether it be parents, coaches, or even students. It has followed me throughout my high school career.
Now, I LOVE golf. It has always brought me peace whenever I’m on the course, but I continue to wonder if I have lost the love and commitment it takes to continue to play.
As a freshman, I had people asking me, “Are you going to play golf in college?” or telling me, “Getting a scholarship will really help your parents.” I never knew how to respond, not only because I was a freshman, but also because I simply didn’t know.
While the love I had for the game was strong, the pressure to succeed started early. I had a life outside of high school golf that consisted of, well, more golf. People became excited to hear about any improvements I had made and the scores I would leave with.
I am eternally grateful to have the support system that I have with golf, as it’s something that most teens don’t get. Yet, I still found myself sitting in the driver’s seat of my car, in the parking lot of a random golf course… crying.
I constantly tell myself “People will have a lot to say about this score.” If I played badly and lost a match that day, I would question my skills and abilities. I blamed myself for not being “good enough” to win.
While most athletes have the luxury of leaving their losses on the field, I carry it with me from one course to the next. I’m scared to disappoint the people around me who have supported me and followed my journey since freshman year.
While it’s rare that people ever admit to their disappointment in me, I do occasionally hear “I want to see those scores come down.” This isn’t the most fun to hear, especially because I already had so much self-doubt and guilt.
I know everyone means well, and has no intention of hurting me, but I’m mentally drained by the constant expectation of me to “be better” after three years.
What once used to bring me joy, has now consumed my brain with negativity. It’s like the love I had for golf became intertwined with the pressure of being “good enough,” and in the process, it has lost its charm.
I no longer look forward to a round on the course with the same enthusiasm. Every game now feels like another test, another opportunity to let down the people who care.
The weight of other people’s expectations and my own self-doubt have dimmed the passion I once had. I’ve come to the realization that it is completely and utterly OK to lose interest in something you’ve once loved. And it is absolutely ok to not want to fall into the ongoing pressure and expectations that people may have of you.
