Rory McIlroy Opens Up About Exploring His Mental Health, and Why He's Glad Athletes Are Speaking Up

Photo credit: Jared C. Tilton - Getty Images
Photo credit: Jared C. Tilton - Getty Images
  • Oops!
    Something went wrong.
    Please try again later.


“Hearst Magazines and Verizon Media may earn commission or revenue on some items through the links below.”

Rory McIlroy was in a hotel room, alone, bawling his eyes out. This was back in 2008—a full three years before he'd household-name himself by winning the U.S. Open—when he'd recently turned pro, just a 19-year-old with bushy hair tumbling from either side of a cap. McIlroy had just earned his European Tour card. And he was blowing it. Another missed cut. Only this time, he was stuck on a tiny South Korean island. No friends, no family, no one to reassure him of what so many suspected all along: that he'd someday become the top-ranked golfer in the world.

"It was just one of those moments that I'll always remember because you have these grand visions of what it's going to be like to be a professional golfer and get on tour, and here you are in the middle of Korea with no one to talk to," McIlroy tells me over Zoom this week.

The Irish-born golfer, now 33, is long gone from being that boy crying in a strange hotel room. McIlroy not only went on to make good on that European Tour card, he then joined the PGA Tour—where he's won 19 tournaments, four majors, and netted more than $56 million in career earnings, all the way up to his most recent top-10 finish at the 2021 U.S. Open. He's now the 10th ranked golfer in the world. But he'd never forget that day in South Korea. "You can have all the success and money in the world—it's not going to make you intrinsically happy," he says. "There's other things that fulfill people other than that, and maybe that's hard for people on the outside looking in to understand."

Eventually, McIlroy had to teach himself how to separate his scores from his self-worth. When he fought to play through injuries hit a slump in 2017, the golfer tells Esquire—he got off social media and noticed an immediate boost in his mental health. He started reading Ryan Holiday's books and learned about stoicism. During the pandemic, McIlroy's wife Erica Stoll gave birth to a baby girl, Poppy. Things like that put the missed cuts and missed putts in perspective. Now, on the other side of the mental health journey he started in 2017, McIlroy is investing in LifeStance—a behavioral healthcare company—and, like some of his Tour counterparts, is bringing awareness to the effects of anxiety and depression in today's athletes. I chatted with McIlroy to get his perspective on the aftermath of Naomi Osaka's withdrawal from the French Open, his finish at the U.S. Open, and how a rewatch of The Dark Knight can be surprisingly good therapy.

Photo credit: Ezra Shaw - Getty Images
Photo credit: Ezra Shaw - Getty Images

ESQUIRE: Congrats on your finish this weekend. That was so cool to see.

Rory McIlroy: Thank you. I was nearly there—a couple of bad holes on the back nine cost me—but it was nice to be up and feel the heat of contention again.

ESQ: What are you doing the night of a run like that?

RM: Honestly, probably just a good glass of red wine and sit and watch some mindless TV.

ESQ: What's the show?

RM: We've been on a Modern Family kick at the moment.

ESQ: I'm asking because I was watching Jon Rahm's press conference—and he was so in his golf mode that he could hardly even talk through how he actually won.

RM: If you read a lot of psychology books, psychologists have always tried to figure out: why can high-level performers describe in great detail why things didn't go well? But then when you ask them why did things go so well, and they can't really describe it? It's funny how the mind works where when it doesn't go right you know every single little detail, but when it does go right, you can't really put your finger on why. It's this psychological phenomenon that it's just sort of being in the flow state and you're not really thinking that much when you're doing things like Jon Rahm did on Sunday… I think the best person in sports that you can see it with is Steph Curry. When Steph gets into that it's childlike, it's playful, and he comes off the court and he can't describe what happens there. It just happens.

ESQ: It reminds me of the bare bones point that Naomi Osaka had—that maybe athletes aren't totally ready to cram into a stuffy room and talk after they're done competing. Where do you fall on that?

RM: I think we have to take it on a case by case basis. It's hard. In tennis, there's only a 30 minute window from when you get off court to when you have to face the world's media. I think it's a pretty limited window to gather your thoughts and your emotions. So, I think they could maybe give them a little more time and space. But for someone like Naomi, it is very obvious that she really doesn't enjoy those environments so much so that she made the decision to step [away]. She was like, If it's going to cost me $15 grand a match to not put myself in an environment where I'm not protecting my well-being, then it was worth it.

So, I have absolutely zero problem. I was actually very much for her doing what she did. I thought it was a great stand and I thought the French Open and the authorities handled it so poorly. But I also get the argument that us as professional athletes have an obligation to face the world's media and do what we do. I just think in Naomi's case, surely there was a creative way to get around that… There could have been something that was done. I think there is such a gray area, especially when it comes to talking about mental health and about how it affects different people that we have to take it on a case by case basis. It can't just be black and white.

ESQ: So many pieces were written afterward— just as someone who is subjected to this stuff all the time, is this conversation around mental health in sports where it needs to be, or did you see something lacking in that coverage or the way people were talking about it?

RM: I did. The reason I felt so strongly is one of the biggest things that I heard from this whole Osaka incident was: Well, last year she made $52 million. So, this is what she should do. People don't understand that even if you're successful and you have money you're not allowed to have problems. Well, that's not fair. That's people just being very small and narrow-minded about it. I've experienced this. You can have all the success and money in the world—it's not going to make you intrinsically happy. There's other things that fulfill people other than that, and maybe that's hard for people on the outside looking in to understand. But I think we have to get to the point where we humanize these athletes and see them for individuals and not just as puppets that are supposed to entertain us on TV every week.

ESQ: If we're just talking about the Tour specifically, Bubba Watson said he struggled with anxiety—and lost weight because of it, which was really sad to hear. Just for you, what's the extent to which you feel that anxiety, and the expectations of fans and the media while you're trying to compete?

RM: Look, it affects everyone slightly differently, but the one thing that is a huge positive is now people are comfortable talking about it... I think the reason that we're seeing more of it is because of social media and because of the age that we live in. One of the best things that I did is I logged off of my social media and I don't see anything because I know that was not good for my mental health. So if I shoot 65, I'm a good person. If I shoot 75, I'm a bad person. And I've always talked about trying to separate who I am as a person and who I am as a golfer—and sometimes that's hard because it is our livelihood and it's what we do. But at the end of the day, just because you hit a few bad golf shots and miss a few putts, it doesn't change who you are as a person. That was something that I had to get comfortable with. Once I removed myself from social media, it was the start of me feeling a lot better about who I was. I was more comfortable with: you're going to have good days, you're going to have bad days. But the highs and lows weren't as drastic as they were before because I wasn't reading the good stuff, but I wasn't reading the bad stuff either. Every day just sort of felt a little less volatile.

ESQ: I’m sure it’s hard to separate yourself as a golfer and a person, when you love what you do. Is there a certain amount of compartmentalizing that goes into that?

RM: I think it's putting things in perspective. I'm very fortunate that I have a 10-month-old daughter. If I'm having a bad day on the course I can just think to myself: She doesn't care that I've just missed that putt. Or she's happy that I walk in the door and we do bath time and I feed her and I put her to bed. I think all of us can build things up in our mind to be bigger than they actually are—and by just putting things in perspective a little bit has helped me.

ESQ: You're taking another step with raising mental health awareness by investing in LifeStance—was there anything specific that inspired you to go to this level?

RM: I started to read a lot. So I had a pretty rough season in 2017. I sort of played through an injury the entire year and I struggled and I ended up cutting my season short by three months. I took a three-month break to get myself healthy. My wife and I took basically a second honeymoon. We drove through the South of France and Italy for a few days and I completely just got away from the sort of circus life that we lead. It was around then when I decided social media probably isn't the best thing for me. I got back on in 2018 just with this freshness and I started to read a little bit more. I started to read some stuff by Ryan Holiday for example, which is stoicism and that's helped me a lot. It wasn't as if I was struggling with anxiety or depression, but I was trying to optimize my mind, my thoughts, and I think that was around the time where I started to become a lot more aware of it.

ESQ: One of the best things you've said—which actually makes a lot of sense is—you’ve watched The Dark Knight the morning before you played an event put you in a good space.

RM: The Dark Knight is one of my favorite movies ever. We could have a whole other conversation around that and there's things you can take from that movie with mental health as well. I think we can all overthink things. If I have so much time to kill before going out in a final that you're leading, what can I do to put myself in a place mentally where I'm not overthinking it? And, by tuning out and watching The Dark Knight, I guess in a way it was a coping mechanism for me.

ESQ: I know you said that 2017 was a time when you learned a lot about mental health, but is there any other moment in your life when you were feeling low and were able to pull yourself out of it?

RM: People won't really remember this because it was before I sort of had burst onto the world scene, but I got my European Tour card at the end of '07. So, my first full year as a pro was 2008 and I got off to a really bad start. I was on the way to missing my Tour card. I remember being in Korea, on Jeju Island alone—and I just missed another cut. I remember going back to the hotel room and sitting on the bed and just bursting into tears because I was playing bad. I felt so far away from home, I felt lonely, and it was just one of those moments that I'll always remember because you have these grand visions of what it's going to be like to be a professional golfer and get on tour, and here you are in the middle of Korea with no one to talk to.

We all have those moments. I'm lucky enough that I had a great support system around me to think the right thoughts and get into a positive mindset to keep going. I think the great thing about golf is there's always next week. If you miss a cut, the next Thursday you tee it up again.

Want unlimited access to Esquire's sports coverage? Join Esquire Select

You Might Also Like