No one likes to struggle. And if you've ever watched a child go through something hard, you know the instinct is almost overwhelming. You'd do anything to take it away from them.

But just because something isn't pleasant doesn't mean it isn't required.

In 2003, I was a college golfer at the University of Maryland when I qualified for the US Amateur at Oakmont Country Club. It was a big deal. Oakmont is one of the most storied venues in golf; the winner gets a Masters invite, and for me, it was the culmination of years of local work compounding into something national.

My whole family made the trip. My expectations were high.

Then the tournament started. The course conditions were brutal, my swing wasn't in sync, and my mind was weaker than I realized. I carded an 86. For the non-golfers, that's a rough number for a scratch handicap at any level, let alone the US Amateur.

I knew how hard it was for me to live through it. But lately I've been thinking about how hard it was for my dad to watch. I'm sure if he could have removed the struggle, he would have. That's what any parent wants to do.

But if he had stolen it from me, I wouldn't have become the player or the man I did. The struggle shaped me. It made me more resilient, more driven, more honest about what I was made of.

Here's the thing about struggle: your tests become a testament, either to yourself or to someone watching you.

Tomorrow, 23 years later, I'm competing in the USGA 4-Ball in Scottsdale, with my good friend Matt. A chance at some redemption in my mid-40s. And I seriously question whether I'd be standing on that first tee if someone had stolen the struggle somewhere along the way.

Don't steal the struggle from yourself. Don't steal it from the people you love. The struggle is the gift. It’s just hard to see it, when you are going through it.

P.S. The Optimistic Outlook is a Podcast! Leaving a rating or review wherever you listen to podcasts would mean a lot.