This morning, my daughter Olympia, who turns five this month, and I were on our way to get her a new passport before a trip to Europe. We’re in my car and she’s holding my phone and using an interactive educational app that she loves. This robot voice asks him a question: What do you want to be when you grow up? She doesn’t know I’m listening, but I hear her whispered response over the phone. She says, “I want to be a big sister.” »
Olympia says it often, even when she knows I’m listening. Sometimes, before going to bed, she prays to Jehovah to bring her a little sister. (She wants nothing to do with a boy!) I’m the youngest of five sisters myself and my sisters are my heroes, so this is a moment I have to listen to very carefully.
Believe me, I never wanted to have to choose between tennis and a family. I don’t think that’s fair. If I were a man, I wouldn’t be writing this because I would be playing and winning while my wife did the physical work of growing our family. Maybe I’d be more of a Tom Brady if I had the chance. Don’t get me wrong: I love being a woman and I loved every second of being pregnant with Olympia. I was one of those annoying women who loved being pregnant and worked until the day I had to show up at the hospital, even though things got super complicated on the other side. And I almost did the impossible: a lot of people don’t realize that I was two months pregnant when I won the Australian Open in 2017. But I’m 41 this month, and something has to give.
I never liked the word retirement. It doesn’t seem like a modern word to me. I thought of this as a transition, but I want to be sensitive to how I use this word, which means something very specific and important to a community of people. Perhaps the best word to describe what I do is evolution. I’m here to tell you that I’m moving from tennis to other things that are important to me. A few years ago, I quietly launched Serena Ventures, a venture capital firm. Shortly after, I started a family. I want to expand this family.
But I was reluctant to admit to myself or anyone else that I needed to stop playing tennis. Alexis, my husband and I barely talked about it; it’s like a taboo subject. I can’t even have this conversation with my mom and dad. It’s like it’s not real until you say it out loud. It happens, I get an uncomfortable lump in my throat and I start crying. The only person I’ve really been there with is my therapist! One thing I’m not going to do is sugarcoat this. I know a lot of people are excited and looking forward to retirement, and I really wish I felt that way. Ashleigh Barty was world number one when she left the sport last March, and I think she really felt ready to move on. Caroline Wozniacki, who is one of my best friends, felt a sense of relief when she retired in 2020.
