People always ask what I did to get to where I am today. Nobody ever asks what I didn’t do.
I’ve been sitting with that duality a lot lately. Because for every yes I’ve ever said — every obligation I leaned into, every expectation I absorbed — there was a cost. And for every no, there was something protected.
The “doing” may be what people celebrate, but the “not doing” is what made everything possible.
The moment that opened my eyes
In 2021, I withdrew from the French Open. People around the world had a lot of opinions.
That moment stands out for me because it opened my eyes to something I hadn’t fully let myself see: you don’t always have to do things that people expect from you. You just have to protect yourself, and know yourself well enough to understand your own boundaries. I’d been a kid playing on public courts where nobody knew who I was, and then all of a sudden that shifted. In the beginning, I wanted to do well for everybody, which caused a lot of stress. The French Open was the moment I finally let that go and figured out I had to do it for myself.
The honest truth about ‘no’
I want to be clear: saying no is not easy for me. But over time it has become a more familiar discomfort.
For a long time, I didn’t like inconveniencing people. I tried to make life easier for others, which meant saying yes to things my heart wasn’t in or I didn’t have the energy to really show up for. What I’ve come to learn is that showing up halfway carries its own cost. Saying yes when you mean no doesn’t actually serve anyone, least of all yourself.
I used to be afraid that saying no meant disappointing people. And believe me, that fear is still there sometimes. But becoming a mother shifted something in me. Now when I say no, it isn’t just about protecting myself, it’s about protecting my daughter too. That realization makes the discomfort easier to sit with, even if it never fully goes away.
There’s this idea that “doing it all” is something women should aspire to, and I don’t think that should be glorified. You can’t be everything to everyone without losing something of yourself. Sometimes it’s actually kinder to say no.
I’ve also learned that asking for help is not the same as being a burden. When I was younger, I’d carry everything myself and call it discipline. Over time, I realized that having a supportive community means surrounding yourself with people who actually want to show up for you. I’m not inconveniencing them when I ask for help.
In a way, that is its own kind of no. No to the story that I have to do everything alone.
What it looks like to protect yourself
In practice, protecting myself is made up of small, daily decisions.
As a professional athlete, I’m very in tune with my body. I’ve learned the difference between a good kind of tired and a deeper fatigue that means something is off. When I feel that fatigue, I don’t push through it anymore. I respect it.
I’ve also had to learn how to rest in a different way. I grew up feeling like I wasn’t good at anything other than tennis, and I carried that with me for a long time. I thought if I just worked hard enough and achieved more, I’d eventually feel settled. But arriving at this place in my life doesn’t automatically teach you how to slow down.
Now, exhaling looks different. It’s coming home and being with my daughter, being fully present during bath time, reading her a story before bed. Those are the moments I choose over everything else, the moments that actually recharge me. There are moments where I choose to step away from something work-related earlier than I might have before, because being with my daughter matters more.
The boundary I’m most proud of is also the simplest. No one outside of my personal inner circle has seen my daughter. When I first set out to pursue professional tennis, I never expected the level of attention that would come with it. Being a public figure has made me even more intentional about what I keep private. In an age of constant access, that choice and protection is very important to me.
What I want you to know
If you are a young woman — or anyone still figuring out what you’re allowed to want — I think it’s important to know that you can have both ambition and limits at the same time. You can go after something fully and still have a say in what it costs you.
I used to think success meant saying yes to everything that came with it. Now I see it differently. I’ve been able to achieve what I have by holding boundaries. Because when I protect my peace, I can perform from it, parent from it and prioritize my mental health. At the end of the day, you’re the only one who has to sit with yourself: your feelings, your decisions, your dreams and your challenges. That’s what makes these decisions matter.
People ask what I did to get here. But the truest answer might be this: I got here partly by deciding what I didn’t have to do anymore.
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In the journey to success, individuals often focus on what they have accomplished, yet the importance of what they chose not to do is frequently overlooked. This duality, the balance of saying « yes » and « no, » has been a significant aspect of my life. Each commitment I made came with a cost, and every refusal protected something essential within me.
A pivotal moment for me occurred in 2021 when I withdrew from the French Open. This decision sparked a wave of opinions worldwide, but for me, it was an eye-opener. I realized that I didn’t have to conform to the expectations of others; instead, I needed to prioritize my own well-being and establish personal boundaries. As a child, I played tennis for fun, but as I gained recognition, the pressure to perform for others mounted. Withdrawing from the tournament helped me shift my focus from external validation to personal fulfillment.
Saying « no » has never been easy for me, but it has become a necessary discomfort over time. I grappled with the belief that I should always accommodate others, often at the expense of my own desires and energy. I discovered that merely showing up without genuine commitment carries its own burden, and saying « yes » when I truly meant « no » did not serve anyone well, least of all myself.
The fear of disappointing others has lingered in my mind, but becoming a mother has profoundly changed my perspective. Now, when I decline opportunities, it’s not just about self-preservation—it’s about safeguarding my daughter’s well-being too. This realization makes the discomfort of saying « no » more manageable, even if it remains a challenge.
The notion that women should aim to « do it all » is one I disagree with. Attempting to be everything for everyone often leads to losing a part of oneself. It can be kinder to say « no » instead of stretching oneself too thin. Additionally, I learned that asking for help does not equate to being a burden. In my earlier years, I believed I had to shoulder everything alone; I now understand that a supportive community is essential. When I reach out for assistance, I’m not inconveniencing others but inviting them to engage in mutual support.
Protecting myself has become a daily practice filled with small, conscious choices. As an athlete, I’ve developed a deep awareness of my body and its signals. I can distinguish between healthy fatigue and a more profound exhaustion that signals something is amiss. Now, I respect those signals rather than pushing through them.
Learning to rest has been another crucial lesson. For much of my life, I felt that my value was tied solely to my athletic achievements, and I thought that working harder would ultimately lead to fulfillment. However, success doesn’t automatically teach how to slow down and appreciate life. Nowadays, I find joy and rejuvenation in simple moments—spending time with my daughter during bath time or reading her a bedtime story. These moments matter more to me than any work obligation.
Perhaps my most significant boundary is the decision to keep my daughter out of the public eye. As my professional tennis career progressed, I never anticipated the level of scrutiny that came with it. Being a public figure has made me more intentional about protecting my family’s privacy. In an age where personal lives can be accessed at will, this decision is vital for maintaining my peace and autonomy.
To those still navigating their ambitions—particularly young women—know that it’s entirely possible to pursue your goals while maintaining limits. You can strive for greatness and still assert control over what you are willing to sacrifice. I once believed that success required saying « yes » to everything, but I’ve come to understand that holding firm boundaries is essential. Protecting my peace enables me to perform better, parent more effectively, and prioritize my mental health.
Ultimately, the essence of my journey lies not just in what I have done but in what I have chosen not to do. It’s the decisions to say « no » that have allowed me to cultivate a life where I can thrive both personally and professionally. At the end of the day, it is my feelings, decisions, dreams, and challenges that I must live with, making these choices all the more significant.
