Dear 10-year-old me,
You will never guess what we have been up to. So many things you love today will grow into passions that shape “adult” you.
Right now, you love helping those around you. You will come to love being an elementary-school teacher—preparing young, impressionable, eager children for the real world and giving them skills that will last a lifetime.
As a kid, you love dressing up in mom’s closet, discovering exciting pieces, and making up new outfits from old favorites. As an adult, you will build a career around designing clothes from moments of inspiration and pushing boundaries ahead of trends.
As a kid, you love tennis—both watching your brother from the sidelines and then traveling the country to compete yourself. That love of tennis will also give you the greatest gifts of all: lessons in determination, grit, and strength in all of their forms.
Today, I get to tell you that, somehow, we have fulfilled all of these dreams at once. So even when you’re down 6–0, 5–0, 40–love, keep your head up, kiddo. One point at a time, never underestimate the power of a comeback.
When I was 10, I gave tennis everything I had. I trained for hours every day, traveled the country to compete, and sacrificed the normal social life that comes with being a kid. On my closet door—prophetic, in hindsight—I wrote, “I will play in the US Open one day,” surrounded by photos of Maria Sharapova. It was essentially a manifestation board before I knew what one was. I even made a bet with my coach, Igor: If I ever played at the US Open, he would buy me a dog, and I would buy him a Harley-Davidson. When you spend that many hours on a court, you need something to work toward. A few years later, a devastating shoulder injury brought my competitive tennis career to an abrupt end—or so I thought.
Earlier this month, Rolex gave me the chance of a lifetime: an invitation to return to the tennis court and play in the USTA Foundation Pro-Am Tournament. The USTA Foundation is especially near and dear to my heart. I was a little girl who was shaped by the game of tennis, both on and off the court, and later became a teacher myself. The foundation brings tennis, education, and mentorship together to give young people in under-resourced communities opportunities they might not otherwise have. Although I’m no longer in a classroom in the traditional sense, participating in this tournament felt like another way to continue something I’ve always cared deeply about—making an impact on the next generation.
Naturally, my answer to Rolex’s offer was yes, resulting in an experience I will truly never forget.
When I graduated from college to pursue a career in education, my family gifted me my first Rolex—a two-tone Oyster Perpetual Datejust. The watch marked a new beginning, and I’ve carried it with me through every season of my life since. To me, Rolex represents timelessness and world-class excellence. And in a way, I think dreams are timeless too. Mine have never really changed. No matter how much time has passed or how different my life has looked along the way, I’ve kept finding my way back to them, achieving them one by one.
The second I learned I would actually be playing in the tournament, my mind went straight to the outfit.
I had this vision of bringing back the flair of early-2000s Nike, inspired by Maria Sharapova’s iconic on-court looks. I wanted movement, texture, and, of course, a really great silhouette, so I tapped my friend and designer Kristin Mallison to help bring the idea living in my head for weeks to life. Together, we created a drop-waist, fringed, reworked Nike dress and matching jacket using upcycled vintage Nike tennis skirts.
And there was one final detail that absolutely could not be left out: a little shock absorber of my beloved pet pig, Stella.
There is something especially fitting about experiencing all of this with Rolex, a watch I’ve worn through so many versions of myself. The teacher. The fashion creator. The founder. And now, somehow, the tennis player again. Time has changed a lot about my life, but it hasn’t changed the things I love most.
Maybe that’s what I would tell every little girl with a dream that feels impossibly big: Big dreams can feel scary, and you don’t always get to decide how or when they come true. But when you find yourself at the end of the proverbial rainbow, it will feel like no time has passed at all, and you’ll be celebrating for every version of yourself—the little girl who dreamed and the woman who made it happen.
To the little girl who wrote “I will play in the US Open one day” on her closet door, you were right. PS, Igor, I think you owe me a dog, and I guess I owe you a Harley.
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