I don’t know exactly who this is for. Maybe it’s for the kid who thinks making it out here will answer everything. Maybe it’s for the player grinding on the Korn Ferry who can’t wait to get here. Or maybe it’s for the version of myself from a few years ago who thought this was going to feel different.
Either way, here’s the truth.
Life on the PGA Tour is not what I thought it was going to be.
That doesn’t mean it isn’t incredible. It is. We play some of the best golf courses in the world. We stay in great places. We get to compete at the highest level of a game we’ve loved since we were kids. But there’s another side to it that no one really explains to you.
It can be really lonely out here.
When you first get your card, everything moves fast. New cities every week. New courses. New faces. Everyone seems like they’ve already found their place, their group, their routine. And you’re just trying to figure out where to park, where to eat, where to practice, how to not look like you don’t belong.
There’s no locker room the way people imagine it. No built-in team. No one checking in on you if you had a bad day unless you’ve built those relationships yourself. You’re surrounded by people all the time, but you can still feel completely on your own. And the thing that surprised me the most?
Even when things go well… it doesn’t feel the way you think it will.
You grow up believing that if you just get here—if you just earn your card—everything will click into place. That the anxiety will go away. That you’ll feel secure. That you’ll finally feel like you’ve made it. But what actually happens is the questions just change.
Now it’s: Can I keep my card? Can I play well enough to stay out here? Was that good week real, or just a flash?
There’s always something on the line. Status. Entry. Money. Relevance. And when you live in that space long enough, it’s easy to let it define how you feel about yourself. That part caught me off guard.
I didn’t expect how much of my identity would get wrapped up in how I was playing week to week. A good finish didn’t just feel like a good tournament—it allowed me to breathe, even if it was only for a few minutes. Like I was okay again. And a missed cut didn’t just sting—it lingered. It followed me into the next week, the next range session, sometimes even back to the hotel room at night.
There’s a lot of time to think out here. More than people realize. You’re not just playing four rounds. You’re traveling. Practicing. Waiting. Walking. Sitting in hotel rooms. Eating alone more than you’d like to admit. And if you’re not careful, your mind starts filling in the gaps.
That’s where things can get tricky. Because there’s no one really telling you how to handle that part.
We spend our whole lives learning how to hit shots, manage a golf ball, control our swing. But no one teaches you how to manage your thoughts when things aren’t going your way. Or how to separate who you are from how you’re playing.
So you figure it out as you go. Or you don’t.
For me, there were a couple of moments where I realized I needed to change something. Not my swing. Not my schedule. Just how I was living out here.
I wouldn’t say I have it all figured out. Not even close. But there are a few things that have made this life a lot more enjoyable—and honestly, a lot more sustainable.
The first was finding my people.
It sounds simple, but it’s not automatic out here. You have to be intentional. You have to reach out. Grab dinner. Travel with someone. Play practice rounds together, and have fun while you play them. Compete, the way you do at home with your buddies. That's when you love the game the most, right?
And open up a little, even when it feels easier to stay in your own lane.
Once I did that, everything changed. The weeks didn’t feel as long. The bad rounds didn’t feel as isolating. And the good weeks were actually fun to share with someone who understood what went into them.
The second was creating something outside of golf.
For a long time, everything I did revolved around playing better. Every conversation, every thought, every plan. And it made the game feel heavier than it needed to be.
So I started carving out space for things that had nothing to do with golf. Reading. Calling people back home. Getting away from the course when I could. Just being a normal person for a few hours. I had to remember that I like more things in life than just golf.
It didn’t take away the pressure. But it gave me perspective. And actually helped me play better by getting away from it some.
It reminded me that golf is something I do—not everything I am.
The third—and probably the most important—was changing how I defined a “good week.”
For most of my life, a good week meant one thing: the result.
Out here, if that’s your only definition, it’s a tough way to live. Because even the best players in the world fail more than they succeed.
So I started asking different questions.
Did I prepare the right way?Did I stay present when things got uncomfortable?Did I carry myself the way I want to, regardless of how I was playing?
Some weeks the answer is still no. But when it’s yes, even if the result isn’t what I wanted, it feels different. It feels lighter. More complete.
And ironically, that’s when I’ve played my best.
Please don't take this letter as "tour life stinks". It doesn't at all, it can be AMAZING. I just think it’s misunderstood.
From the outside, it looks like everything. From the inside, you realize it’s just a part of your life—an important part, but not the whole thing.
If I could tell my younger self anything, it would be this:
Getting here doesn’t solve everything. It just gives you a new set of questions.
And that’s okay.
Because the goal isn’t to have all the answers. It’s to learn how to live with the questions without letting them define you.
This game will give you incredible moments. It will challenge you in ways you didn’t expect. It will show you parts of yourself you didn’t know were there.
But just remember the person you were when you started playing this game.
And once you start to understand that—even a little bit—the game becomes a lot more fun to play.