Rose Zhang’s journey to the top of women’s golf has been marked by unprecedented success, but it has also been shadowed by intense fear and doubt. The young phenom, who dominated amateur golf for a record 141 weeks as World No. 1 and won on her professional debut, has openly discussed moments of terror that nearly derailed her career. At the heart of these struggles was the looming decision to turn professional—a step that filled her with dread about the potential for burnout and losing her passion for the game.
As Zhang approached the end of her stellar collegiate career at Stanford, where she won 12 tournaments and back-to-back NCAA individual titles, the pressure to join the LPGA Tour mounted. Many in the golf world expected her to turn pro immediately after her amateur triumphs. Yet Zhang hesitated, haunted by the fear of what full-time professional golf might demand. “I was so scared to turn professional,” she revealed. “Scared of the burnout factor. Scared of what’s going to happen if I don’t want to play the sport anymore.”
This terror stemmed from a deep awareness of the toll the sport can take. Zhang had witnessed promising careers cut short by exhaustion and loss of joy. Her own perfectionism, ingrained from a young age, fueled an internal pressure that made the prospect of endless tournaments and expectations overwhelming. She knew that jumping straight to the pro ranks could lead to rapid burnout, erasing the love that had driven her since childhood. “I knew that I would 100 percent burn out if I turned pro right away,” she explained, emphasizing her need for an identity beyond golf.
Choosing Stanford over immediate professional opportunities was a deliberate act of self-preservation. College provided a buffer—a chance to develop as a person while competing at the highest amateur level. It allowed her to build resilience, explore interests outside the fairways, and delay the full immersion into the pro grind. Influenced by role models like Michelle Wie West, who balanced education and golf, Zhang committed to finishing her degree, even after turning pro in 2023.
The fears didn’t vanish upon going professional. Balancing a hectic LPGA schedule with Stanford classes led to physical injuries, inconsistent results, and mental fatigue. There were periods of withdrawal from events due to health issues, slumps on the course, and the relentless juggling act that left her exhausted. “The last few years have been quite hectic,” she has acknowledged, reflecting on the mental and physical challenges.
Yet these trials have shaped a more resilient Zhang. By confronting her terror head-on—delaying her pro debut, prioritizing education, and learning to manage pressure—she preserved her love for golf. Her story highlights the hidden vulnerabilities behind prodigious talent: the moments of doubt that test even the strongest. In pushing through that fear, Zhang not only secured her place among golf’s elite but also emerged with a healthier perspective, proving that acknowledging terror can be the first step toward enduring success.
