Creating Space

By Alyaa Abdulghany

Golf was my life.

I lived and breathed golf from the moment I picked up my first club until today. I honestly can’t

remember the days before that.

And I was fine with it.

I never envisioned myself becoming anything else in this world; I felt a fire and passion for

becoming a professional golfer and believed I was destined for great things.

When I was in high school, I saw golf as my ticket to get to my dream university. I needed to

have good grades and a great golf game to ensure I had that chance. 

I believed that if I dedicated every minute to golf and studying, I could achieve this.

I kept my head down figuratively and metaphorically. 

I didn’t go out of my way to make friends or try to socialize. 

My days were cyclical; I’d go to school, spend the rest of the day at the golf course, then spend my nights studying to get good grades.

Even when I went to sleep, I was planning out the next day to ensure I was maximizing the time I had for practice and studying, nothing else.

Soon my days started to mash together; I couldn’t remember when I went to sleep if I ate, or

when I took time off. I started losing myself in the process.

Everything was a blur, but I didn’t mind it one bit. I thought this was the grind. I believed

the process of losing myself was a natural thing to sacrifice to achieve something more.

Besides, my golf game was at a peak. I graduated high school with a 4.50 GPA, received a full athletic scholarship to my dream university, and was playing at a level I thought was

unachievable.

But on the first day of practice with my college teammates, I realized the magnitude of what was expected of me and the kind of lifestyle I was to lead after college if I wanted to continue my career as a professional golfer.

A large, dark cloud hung over my head. And at this moment – only now did I realize – that I associated my golf performance with my identity and self-worth. 

I feared becoming anything different than what I envisioned for myself. It was the thought of me never fulfilling the destiny that terrified me.

I feared becoming anything less than great.

I started playing golf as if my life was on the line. I started believing the scores I posted every round was a direct reflection of who I was. When I played great, I felt on top of the world. 

When I didn’t play my best, it was hard to look at myself in the mirror.

I started to panic over small mistakes and created worst-case scenarios in my head about what might happen every time I stood on the tee box.

I lost who I was and why I was even playing golf in the first place.

By the end of my sophomore year, I was at my all-time low. I felt defeated and my golf game was nowhere near the performance level it needed to be. There were multiple occasions where I thought my career in golf was a sunk-cost fallacy, that all the time and money I’ve invested was just a waste.

For nothing.

My grades were salvageable so that I could apply for an internship or study abroad. I thought maybe that was the path. I started to believe that golf was never my destiny.

Yet, I was reluctant to secure an internship. When I did apply for internships and got accepted, I never followed through. I never saw myself with a desk job, so I never made an effort to have one.

I was still too hung up about my golf game and how I failed.

My mother suggested I take a flight home to Asia to see my extended family for the next month and clear my head.

So, I did and I’m glad I did.

After my trip home, I felt renewed and refreshed. It was true that my golf game didn’t seem promising, but this feeling gave me hope and strength to keep moving forward. 

I realized all this time, when I thought I wasn’t made to be an athlete or thought less of myself, it was because I saw golf as my only identity.

It took me a long time to understand that even though I played golf for a living, it wasn’t who I was at my core. When I returned for my third year of college, I created space between golf and my life outside of golf.

Whatever happened at the golf course, I didn’t want it to affect how I carried myself.

Soon enough, I started performing better. I felt calmer, happier, and more confident on the course. 

My dream of being a professional golfer was coming closer and closer.

Today, I am a college graduate, a two-time Dean’s List student-athlete, a three-year All-American, a two-time PAC-12 Champion, and trending farther than I thought I would be in my life.

I have a close-knit of friends who are always there for me and bless them for staying by my side through it all.

Golf is my life and a part of my identity, but who I am is much more than that.

So, whatever your journey is, wherever your destiny lies, go full force. But draw a line between your ambitions and self-worth because you are much more than a number on a scorecard.

Remember, when it comes to life make sure to pay attention to what you pay attention to. Chances are if you’re always belittling yourself or putting yourself up on this high horse in your mind, you’re far from reality. 

And I’ve come to learn that the only unbeaten record belongs to reality. It will always have a way of eventually finding you.