Boise pro golfer decides to move on: ‘My little voice wasn’t screaming anymore’ Boise pro golfer decides to move on: ‘My little voice wasn’t screaming anymore’ I have decided to stop playing professional golf. Unfortunately, I did not earn back LPGA Tour status at the Qualifying Series in November. Facing a step down to the Symetra Tour or a long string of Monday qualifiers, it was time to reevaluate. After difficult and honest introspection, I don’t believe my game is where it needs to be to enjoy the life I want on the LPGA Tour. Through 25 LPGA events, my best weeks gave me middle-of-the-pack finishes; my average weeks were missing cuts. I feel both pride and dismay to be here: proud to have worked my way up to this vantage point, but discouraged to recognize the gap that remains between myself and the next tier of players. The next tier of competitors are contending on their best weeks and finishing in the middle of the pack on their average weeks. The harsh reality is that this is the only level on the women’s side of the game that allows one to make a comfortable living and retain some job security. Couldn’t I continue to improve, though? Potentially. Many players don’t peak until their early 30s (if their financial and family decisions allow them to get that far). It’s not uncommon for a player to earn her first win after playing 100 events. Under the right guidance, there is still room for growth in my game. Yet, I am also acutely aware of my shortcomings. I know how wide the chasm looms between a few good weeks and enjoying a sustainable career. I also understand the reality of what’s necessary to make even one significant long-term improvement. I have been climbing this mountain for a long time. I’ve spent my life assessing the next peak, plotting and preparing, falling off, getting back up. I’m incredibly proud of how far I have made it. But now, when I look up at the peak in front of me, I don’t feel like climbing anymore. Frankly, I’ve never viewed myself as talented at golf. “Talent” to me suggests something you are born with, an ability that comes easily. I’ve had to work incredibly hard for every golf skill I’ve acquired. The one thing I believe I was born with, that does come as naturally as breathing, is grit. I’ve somehow always managed to rise to the occasion when my career demanded it because I’ve had an extra reserve of will — a little voice inside that has wanted to succeed at golf so badly it hurts. However, the last month leading up to Q-Series and the tournament itself felt different. I wanted to make it, yes. But when I sat alone with my thoughts, the fire wasn’t there. My little voice wasn’t screaming anymore.