Hole 7: Things That Haunt My Golf Game

Tiffanie
Oct 29
4 min read

Well friends, we’ve officially entered spooky season. The foggy morning picture of Torrey Pines after fall maintenance is probably the scariest photo that I have related to golf. I’ve never been a huge Halloween person, but my time in New England definitely opened my eyes to all the magic of fall — crisp air, colorful leaves, cozy layers, and of course, that extra hour of sleep when daylight savings rolls around (which is this weekend btw). There’s something about those chilly mornings that makes lingering in bed feel extra indulgent.

Now, “chilly” in San Diego means waking up to temps in the mid-50s that climb into the 70s by noon, a far cry from Boston, where the highs barely break 55 and you never want to leave your blanket burrito. But since we’re in the spirit of all things spooky, I thought it’d be fun to talk about the things that truly haunt my golf game.

Golf has long carried the reputation of being a man’s sport. Even with the surge of women taking up the game in recent years and “influencing” the sport, it still carries that "boys’ club” perception. I’m no stranger to being one of the few women in the room or on the course. I was surrounded by boys on the playground or the courts growing up, and I've spent most of my career in Sales and IT, two heavily male-dominated spaces.

Now, working in communications and marketing, I’ve been lucky to collaborate with more women, which has been refreshing but, honestly, still a little bit of an adjustment in dynamic.

When I started playing more regularly in Boston, my usual foursome was made up of my best friend’s husband and his friend, my best friend’s brother and sprinkle in a couple of male coworkers here and there. We had a blast, and I loved the friendly banter, but I can’t recall ever playing with another woman. Even during company tournaments, I was always the lone female golfer in the group.

When I moved to San Diego, one of my goals was to find a local women’s golf community and thankfully, those social groups have popped up everywhere lately. Through them, I found my now regular playing partner. She’s been playing since she was young, and I’ve learned so much just from watching her, particularly her pre-shot routine, course management, even the language she uses on the course. Playing with her has been like an unspoken masterclass through osmosis. I also found a female coach who played on the LPGA Tour. I felt like I'd be more comfortable with a female teacher, and she could probably relate more to and advise from a woman's perspective.

When I first started playing consistently, my biggest fear wasn’t about score, it was about perception. I’d walk up to the first tee and feel the eyes of the group on me, convinced the guys were thinking, “Oh no, a woman”… “She’s going to play from the front tees and slow us down.” That little voice in my head would spiral, and inevitably, the nerves would follow. I’d worry about whiffing, topping the ball, or slicing it straight into the next fairway (and I have done all of the above at some point).

It even happened recently, when I had the opportunity to play at Titleist Performance Institute’s short course in Oceanside with other women golfers who were invited to the event. Which side-note was an amazing event, and I'll have to share more on that in another post. Everyone was standing around the first tee watching, and what did I do? Sent my drive sky-high and short to the right. Classic. My instinct was to immediately apologize, to explain that this wasn’t normal for me. Luckily, my group laughed it off and reminded me that no one actually cared and that it was fine.

And that’s the truth. I was the only one who cared.

As my game’s improved, so has my confidence. Sure, I still get in my head a lot (that’s just who I’ll always be), but I’ve realized most people are too busy thinking about their own swing to worry about mine. And I have to say that the San Diego golf community has been nothing but welcoming. Looking back, I don’t think I’ve ever been grouped with anyone (male or female) who was truly unpleasant. Most players are just like me, mid-handicappers trying to figure it out one swing at a time.

Golf is funny that way. It’s both social and solitary, a mental marathon with no teammates to bail you out. Every course, every hole, every shot presents something new. Unlike basketball, volleyball or soccer, the “arena” changes daily — pin locations, terrain, weather, wind, even the feel of the grass. It’s just you, your thoughts, and the course. And somehow, that’s what keeps us coming back.

As women’s golf continues to grow, I do think the stigma will keep fading. Maybe never completely (reality, right?), but enough that it won’t feel like such a rarity to see women on the course. We, men and women, all play a part in shaping that future.

I’ll probably always battle the first-tee jitters or get psyched out by a water hazard staring me down. But it’s all part of the process. Golf humbles you, challenges you and teaches you things about patience, focus and grace that you usually don’t realize until later.

At the end of the day, I love this game. Even on the frustrating days. It’s a great mental reset, gets me outside, works muscles I didn’t know existed, and has introduced me to some amazing people.

So, if you’re a woman who’s been curious about golf, just do it (not a Nike ad). Pick up the clubs, take the swing, and know that while you’re out there battling your own thoughts, there are countless other women doing the same, cheering you on from their own fairways.

Thanks for reading! Catch you on the next one.

A little added bonus of things on my "betrayal" list: (cue the Kanye)