From Quadruple Bogey to Major Contender: Lindy Duncan on the Power of Choosing Change

Lindy Duncan joined the LPGA Tour in 2014 following her collegiate career at Duke University, where she was a four-time All-American. She was selected by her peers as the recipient of the 2025 Heather Farr Perseverance Award.

Here is her story:

I still think about it. 🤔

I was standing on the last tee box at LPGA Q-School, 3-under on the day and knowing that a par on 18 would secure my full status for 2023. That was all I needed: a par.

Even now, I could not tell you exactly what happened on that last tee shot. My ball shot dead right off the clubface, and suddenly, I was in a complete panic. My hands went numb. The air left my lungs. My heart started pounding.

It felt like an out-of-body experience. 😰

After topping my next shot into the hazard, I blasted a routine, 100-yard wedge sixty feet past the pin. To top it off, I three-putted for a quadruple bogey.

In one of the most important moments of my career, I made an eight. An eight.

I tried to hold it together as I walked into the scoring tent, wiping tears from my cheeks and hoping no one would notice. But I could not hide it.

I checked scores with my playing partners, swallowed the lump in my throat and signed for my third straight 73.

I rushed to the car, desperate to outrun the devastation of what had just happened. My mother drove us home, and I do not remember saying much of anything the whole way.

That night I tried to write about it, but the words would not come. So, the next morning, I went for a run. Only when my feet started pounding the pavement did my thoughts begin to settle.

And that is when I asked myself a simple, terrifying question. Do I change, or do I walk away? 💭

Deep down, I knew I was not ready to give up on golf. I had thought about it before. I had even considered what kind of job I might pursue if I walked away.

But there was a harder truth I had to accept. I had never given golf my everything.

The physical ability was there. What I had not confronted was the mental side, the perfectionism that had carried me through so much of my career.

Here is the thing about perfectionism: it is a liar. 🎭

It lulls you into this false sense of security, telling you that if you just control every detail, if you never make a mistake or allow yourself to fail, you will get to where you are supposed to go.

For most of my golf career, I believed those lies. I tried hard, I practiced harder, and for a while, it seemed to work.

Until it did not.

That eight was my wake-up call. It forced me to take an honest look at who I was, not just as a golfer, but as a person. 🪞

Change was not going to be easy. It was going to be messy and uncomfortable and scary. I had to decide, if I give this everything I have got, and it still is not enough, will I be okay?

I chose to be brave. I chose to change. 💪

I leaned into the work I was doing with my sports psychologist, Raymond Prior. Then, late in the 2024 season when I again found myself fighting to keep my card, I reached out to swing coach Sean Foley.

At first, I thought I just needed help with my alignment. But Sean quickly became more than my instructor. He introduced me to the idea of daily mantras, short phrases to remind yourself of who you are trying to be.

And he suggested I create my own.

On the long flight to China for the 2025 Blue Bay LPGA, I opened a notebook and started writing. I repeated those mantras every day, morning, noon, and night. 📝

And then, something shifted.

Not because the words themselves were magic, but because I started to believe them.

Weeks later, I arrived at The Chevron Championship fresh off a missed cut. Normally, I would have felt the familiar butterflies that come with the start of major championship season, but this time felt different.

I shot 66 in the second round, and I thought it might finally be my moment. I found myself standing on the first tee on Sunday with a major championship on the line. That final round was the first time I had ever let myself have fun on the golf course. It was nothing short of exhilarating. ⛳

I will never forget walking up the 18th hole that day. The cheers from the gallery. The energy from the crowd willing my birdie putt into the hole.

When it dropped, I could not contain the roar that ripped out of me. I hugged my caddie, signed my scorecard and headed back to the 18th tee for a playoff. I thought to myself: Let us try and win the damn thing. 🔥

But one hole later, it was all over.

Someone else hoisted the trophy and jumped into the pond. Yet, to my surprise, I did not feel disappointed. I had had the time of my life, and it was a gift. 🎁

That night, too amped up to sleep, I started writing about what the week had felt like, how it felt to be in contention, what I learned about myself and the winding road that had brought me there.

When I finished, I sent my notes to my sister and asked: Should I post this?

I had never shared something that vulnerable before, not with friends, not with other players, not with anyone. But eventually, I pressed post.

The response blew me away. 🤯

It turned out that many of my friends and fellow athletes knew exactly what it felt like to suffocate under the weight of self-doubt. I had more honest conversations about life and golf than I ever had in all my years on Tour.

People connected with my story. They saw the heartbreak, the rebuild, the redemption. And that meant more to me than any trophy. 💜

So, when I got the call that I had won the Heather Farr Perseverance Award, I was not sure I deserved it. My journey was not groundbreaking and it certainly was not unique. What made it remarkable was my willingness to talk about it.

Giving my acceptance speech at the Rolex Awards later that year was another exercise in vulnerability. I talked about where I had been and where I hoped to go, reflecting on the choices I made to keep working and to commit to a new mental process.

Because the truth is, the road to self-acceptance is not linear.

And my story certainly is not finished. 📖

I am still a work in progress. There will always be more eights, both on and off the golf course, and I have come to accept that.

I have realized that happiness cannot depend on scores or outcomes, and that real love is not transactional. It is unconditional. 💕

Sometimes, I think back to that moment at Q-School, to the version of myself walking off that 18th green convinced she had just wasted her life on a game that did not love her back.

When I do, I send that version of myself a little extra grace. 🙏

Because now I understand something I did not know then.

That eight did not define me. It is what I did next that did. ✨