I’m not writing today with tournament updates or big news, but because there’s something that’s been weighing on me for a while — something I’ve carried quietly between rounds, behind smiles, and in the long stretches of silence. The truth is, I’ve been feeling profoundly alone. Not just now and then, but in a way that lingers with me daily, like a shadow I can’t shake, no matter how many fairways I walk.
Golf teaches us about solitude. We spend hours on the course, just us and the ball, with plenty of time to think. But there’s a difference between focus and isolation. Lately, my days off the course have been filled with the kind of quiet that doesn’t refresh — the kind that echoes in empty rooms and unanswered questions, like, “Does anyone think of me when the round is over?”
I see groups of friends laughing, teammates bonding, people sharing life together — and I can’t help but feel like I’m standing outside the ropes, watching everyone else live the moments I long to be part of. I want connection just as much as I want to sink a long putt under pressure. I want to feel seen, heard, valued — not just as a golfer, but as a person.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s something about me that makes people drift away. Maybe I’m too reserved. Maybe I share too little… or maybe too much. I honestly don’t know. What I do know is that this feeling of being left on the edge, of not belonging, cuts deeper than any missed cut or lost tournament.
What I’m searching for is simple: a small circle of genuine people. Friends I can lean on in tough times, and who know they can do the same with me. People who aren’t afraid to ask how I’m really doing — and who invite me into their lives as well. I’m not chasing perfection, just something real. Someone to say, “You matter. I’m here.”
If this speaks to you in any way, I’d be grateful if you reached out — even if it’s just a quick Hello with the send message button below.
Like in golf, sometimes a small gesture can be the start of something meaningful, a spark that changes the whole round
