Beyond the Tee Box: My Experience as a Woman of Color Golfing in Scotland

AI-generated artistic illustration created by Renetta Smith for Beyond the Tee Box. no more hiding™ © 2026 no more hiding, LLC. All Rights Reserved.

Since my daughter moved to Scotland in 2022 to complete her master’s degree, I had been trying to figure out how I might connect with the golf community there—particularly with other women golfers. As a member of several women’s golf communities here in the United States, I naturally started looking for connections that might help introduce me to women golfers in Scotland.

I didn’t find what I was looking for.

That really surprised me.

My thinking was pretty simple: if I could make a connection before I arrived, I’d have an easier introduction into the local golf community.

Because honestly, I didn’t know what to expect.

Here in the United States, I’ve walked into golf clubs where people were perfectly kind to me—and still stared at me like I was a purple giraffe. 😂 I can’t say I’ve gotten used to it, but I’ve learned that the looks aren’t always hostile.

Thankfully, the golf landscape is changing. Organizations such as Women on Course, the LPGA Amateur Golf Association, historically Black Greek-letter sororities and fraternities, and Queens on the Greens are introducing more women—and more women of color—to the sport. And more of us are sticking with it.

For many women, golf becomes something almost therapeutic—a chance to spend time outdoors and connect with like-minded women. We aren’t all necessarily athletic. We come from different industries, backgrounds, and economic brackets. But let us smell a new golf glove, hold a fresh sleeve of golf balls, or make that first good swing...

Oh, Lord. We’re possessed by the golf spirits. 😂

I certainly was.

I have never had an athletic bone in my body. I’m 75% geek and 25% nerd, through and through. But once I found golf, I was hooked. I think I have more golf shoes in my closet now than stilettos. Go figure.

Still, none of that answered my question about Scotland.

So, in December 2025, I stopped trying to find a ready-made connection and simply started emailing pro shops and visiting golf courses around Edinburgh. And that's where the story gets interesting. What was it going to be like walking into these spaces as a Black woman?

The Journey

Before I ordered my Uber and plotted my way to the first course, I sat on my daughter’s couch and did some research. I Googled golf courses in Edinburgh and started reading reviews to see if anyone mentioned what the experience was like for women—or, more specifically, women of color. I found plenty of information about the courses, but not much that answered the question I was actually asking.

A quick Google search for golf courses in and around Edinburgh revealed plenty of possibilities.

Prestonfield Golf Club

Friday, 19 December 2025, I ordered an Uber to Prestonfield Golf Club.

It was a mild 44°F. At the last minute, I decided to leave my golf clubs tucked safely in the corner of the apartment. If I was going to have a bad experience, I needed to be able to make a quick getaway—and I didn’t want a bag full of golf clubs weighing me down. 😂

The drive there was scenic. Narrow streets. Tiny cars. Polite drivers nodding to one another as they took turns passing. No honking horns. No road rage. Just Prince’s “Little Red Corvette” playing on the radio. And just like that, I knew the song was going to be stuck in my head all day.

I left the Uber window cracked slightly so I could smell the air. It was sweet. Clean. Everything about the ride felt peaceful. And I hoped the welcome waiting for me at the end of it would feel just as easy.

My thoughts were interrupted by the driver.

“Madam, this is yer destination for the golf course.”

I glanced through the tiny Uber windows looking for...well...a golf course. All I saw was a row of homes with cars parked curbside in front of them.

And then—oh. There it was.

Hidden at the end of the street was a tiny walkway leading to a small parking lot. Then I noticed a wooden gate announcing the golf club.

This was very different from the golf courses I was accustomed to playing in the United States. The entrances back home tend to be a little more dramatic, with clear signage announcing that you've arrived.

Not Prestonfield.

Its entrance was humble and tucked away. I probably would have walked right past it if I hadn't been looking for it. No grand entrance. Just a plastic banner screwed to a wooden fence.

As I continued down the path, I came upon a historical marker.

I stopped to read it.

Two male golfers came walking off the course toward me with their push carts. Their shoes were muddy, and I could hear them talking. It was English—but Scottish English—so I couldn't make out every word. 😂

And there I stood, staring very intently at that historical marker, thinking: Maybe they won't see me.

They did.

“Heya, Madam.” They tipped their hats.

I was stunned. “Heya!” I replied with a smile.

And that was it.

They continued their conversation and kept walking. No stares. No strange looks. No questions about whether I was lost or why I was there.

They simply kept walking as though I was just another golfer.

As their voices faded down the path, I felt something in me relax. I felt safe. Accepted. So I took a few pictures and continued toward the clubhouse.

Two lady golfer were standing on the upstairs balcony overlooking the course. I nodded up at them. They pleasantly nodded back.

Okay...so far, so good.

I headed inside the clubhouse looking for the Pro Shop. Another muddy golfer politely redirected me across the walkway to a tiny building I had assumed was used to store golf carts. It was the Pro Shop and there were no golf carts -- only push carts "hand trollies" allowed on the course.

The Pro Shop was a tiny room stocked wall to wall with shiny golf clubs, branded golf balls, towels, ball markers, divot repair tools, and golf apparel. I felt like a kid in a candy store.

A man came out of the office. “Madam, may I help?”

Okay...here we go, I thought. I politely launched into my pre-rehearsed explanation: “Thank you. I’m here visiting my daughter who is attending uni. I’m a relatively new golfer and interested in playing your course some day when it’s warmer. I’d like to look around a little and purchase a few souvenirs to take home.” I went on to explain that that I didn’t bring my clubs.

Instead of questioning why I was there, he welcomed me to browse and invited me to play the course that day and disappeared into his office. I felt relieved that I was going to be closely monitored. Just as I was reaching for a golf cap, the man reappeared with a loaner set of clubs.

Apparently, I was golfing. 😂

He introduced me to other golfers, including two young British men visiting Edinburgh on holiday who helped me navigate the course. It was cold, wet, and muddy, and after three holes I'd had enough December golf.

But I couldn't stop smiling.

I'd left my clubs at the apartment because I was worried I might need to make a quick getaway. Instead, they handed me a set of clubs and encouraged me to experience the course.

The course was basically flat with only a few minor changes in elevation. It was very cold, muddy, and wet and I only golfed the first three holes and checked out.

Everyone was wonderful. Welcoming. I took pictures of them, and they took pictures of me and ….a wonderful golf day was had by all. Just think, I was stressed about how I was going to be treated, and well… I was treated like any other golfer new to their course.

As I climbed into the Uber—wet, cold, and happy, with my shopping bag full of golf swag—I decided I was going to try the experiment again.

Prestonfield could have been a fluke. One welcoming golf club didn’t necessarily tell me what I might experience at other clubs around Edinburgh. If I really wanted to know, I needed to keep going.

So I would.

But on another day.

For now, I was heading home to thaw out with some boozy hot chocolate.

Next Stop: Duddingston Golf Club

Tuesday, 23 December 2025 . Christmas Eve-Eve and the only thing on my mind is golfing for the holiday. I might be a little addicted. By the time I visited Duddingston, I was a little less apprehensive—but I was still cautious. As I waited at the trunk for the Uber driver to retrieve my clubs, my mind was racing: Would the experience be different from Prestonfield? Would I get "the looks " ? Would anyone question whether I belonged there?

With my golf bag strapped irmly on my back, I walked straight to the Pro Shop. I might as well get this over with.

Cheers! I'll be right with you!

I scanned the tiny Pro Shop for the body attached to the voice, and located a young man in the rear of the store.

Cheers! I replied.

And something interesting happened.

I was welcomed again. Same experience as Prestonfield.

One of the club’s longtime golfers had made himself comfortable in the Pro Shop (as I understand he did routinely), chatting with golfers as they came and went. He encouraged me to pull up a stool and “have a wee blether.”

I had no idea what a “wee blether” was, but the Pro Shop attendant pulled a stool from the storeroom for me to sit next to the Scottish gentleman...and I learned that a wee blether meant to sit, chat, and shoot the breeze. 😂

So that’s exactly what we did.

I admit, I didn’t understand every word the Scottish gentleman said, but I could read his nonverbals. And what he said through his gestures was: Sit...make yourself comfortable...you’re different, but we like it...let’s learn more about each other...you are welcome in this space.

We shot the breeze, and I made a new friend.

We talked briefly about politics, Scottish culture, why my daughter decided to move to the UK, whether I planned to relocate, and what makes a traditional Scottish breakfast.

Another Scottish golf club. Another warm welcome. And this time, I sat awhile and had a wee blether.

Craiglockhart Tennis and Leisure Centre — SportEx

Wednesday, 24 December 2025. My daughter and I decided to try our hand at the new indoor TrackMan golf simulator at Craiglockhart Tennis and Leisure Centre.

Neither of us quite knew what we were doing at first. We were swinging, missing, laughing—and wondering why everything felt so awkward. We later realized we had been playing with men’s left-handed clubs, which made the whole experience side-splittingly funny. 😂

Thankfully, the kind folks at Craiglockhart were welcoming and incredibly helpful. Once they realized what we were doing, they provided us with right-handed clubs—which, unsurprisingly, weren’t nearly as funny to play with.

It was another reminder that my golf experience in Scotland wasn’t limited to traditional courses. I was finding opportunities to play, practice, experiment—and, in this case, simply enjoy the game with my daughter.

Eight Months Later...

When I returned to Scotland in August 2026, something had changed.

Scotland hadn’t changed.

The people of Scotland hadn’t changed.

I had.

This time, I wasn’t apprehensive about whether I should golf. I was wondering which course I should play first.

A few months before my return, I contacted the Golf Club Manager at Merchants of Edinburgh and asked whether the club had a ladies’ golf group. I explained that I would be returning to Edinburgh and, if appropriate, would love the opportunity to connect with some of the women and perhaps play a round.

He responded warmly and put me in touch with several members of the ladies’ group.

That’s how I met Libby and Margaret.

In January 2026 and for the next few months, we exchanged friendly emails and eventually settled on a date and tee time- 5 August 2026 at 12 noon. And unlike my first golf outing in Scotland eight months earlier, I wasn’t apprehensive. I wasn’t wondering how I would be received. I wasn’t planning an exit strategy.

I was excited.

I packed my clubs. I was ready to play golf.

And then Scotland reminded me that confidence has absolutely no control over Scottish weather. 😂

The morning of our round was cold and rainy, with winds strong enough to make me reconsider our plans. But Libby and Margaret were accustomed to the rain and wind—and eager to meet up—so I couldn’t back out.

Merchants is a physically challenging course, with dramatic changes in elevation from hole to hole. And it certainly didn’t help that the day we played nine holes, it was cold and rainy, with high winds.

The course offers beautifully maintained grasslands, naturally contoured terrain, rolling fairways, sweeping, once-in-a-lifetime views—and rapid elevation changes that include some surprisingly steep climbs and descents.

The Bruntsfield Links Golfing Society

My next stop was The Bruntsfield Links Golfing Society a private golf club (not to be confused with the Bruntsfield Links Short-Hole Golf Course that I'll will talk about next).

11 August 2026. This time, there was no hesitation. I arrived with my clubs and every intention of playing golf. As it turned out, the main course had other plans. 😂 An event was being held that day that occupied the course, so I wasn’t able to get out for a round. Instead, I headed to the driving range to hit some balls.

The Pro Shop Manager was apologetic about the inconvenience and handed me an XL basket of range balls—at no charge. So, no round of golf that day. But I had my clubs, a bucket full of balls, and a driving range in Scotland. I was perfectly content with Plan B.

From where I stood at the driving range, the course appeared mostly flat, with some slight elevation around the tee boxes and greens. It was lush, beautifully maintained, and looked to be in great condition for a round of golf.

Just as importantly, the people I encountered were kind and welcoming.

Bruntsfield Links Short-Hole Public Golf Course

14 August 2026. Not to be confused with The Bruntsfield Links Golfing Society, my final stop was Bruntsfield Short-Hole Links—one of the oldest short-hole public golf courses in the world, sitting right in the middle of a public park in Edinburgh. If you need to practice your short game, this is the course for you.

Just a putter, a pitching wedge, four pink golf balls—and my daughter.

Erin and I spent the afternoon making our way around the course, laughing, being silly, enjoying the sunshine and occasionally pretending that we took our golf very seriously.

We did not. 😂

But somewhere between the missed putts, questionable shots, and ridiculous selfies, I realized how far I had come from that first trip eight months earlier.

In December, I had left my golf clubs tucked safely in the corner of Erin’s apartment because I wasn’t sure how I would be received at a Scottish golf club. I wanted to be able to make a quick exit if I needed one, and didn’t want lugging a golf bag get in the way of a quick getaway.

Eight months later, I wasn’t looking for an exit. I was standing in the middle of a public golf course in Edinburgh with my daughter, four pink golf balls, and absolutely no concern about whether I belonged there.

I was just a regular person playing golf.

By this point in my Scotland golf experiment, I was beginning to recognize a pattern.

Course after course, the answer had been the same. I showed up wondering whether I would belong. Whether I would be welcomed. Whether a Black woman from America walking into these traditional Scottish golf spaces would somehow feel out of place.

Instead, I found open doors, warm conversations, invitations to pull up a stool, new friendships, scones and tea, and people who seemed genuinely happy that I had come.

I had gone to Scotland wondering whether there was room for me in the Home of Golf.

Scotland answered: Welcome to the game.

And I’m grateful I had the guts to find out for myself.

I’m also grateful for the opportunity to live as an example for my daughter. Our children may not listen to everything we say, but they watch everything we do.

I hope that in watching me, my daughter has learned that creating the life you want takes guts. It means questioning limits you didn’t create and refusing to automatically accept the ones other people place in front of you. Sometimes it means walking into spaces where you’re not sure you belong, introducing yourself anyway, and giving people the opportunity to welcome you.

It means being willing to look a little foolish, get a little lost, change the plan, try again—and occasionally play golf with the wrong damn clubs. 😂

Most of all, I hope she sees that getting older doesn’t mean our worlds have to get smaller.

Mine certainly hasn’t.

There are still places I haven’t been, people I haven’t met, things I haven’t tried, and parts of myself I haven’t discovered yet.

So I’ll keep showing up.

I’ll keep exploring.

I’ll keep swinging.

And I’ll see where the ball lands.

Live Whole.

Live Seen.

Live Free.

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