Keeping score
Kaitlyn Valentino, PharmD, is a 2025–2026 APhA fellow with the APhA Education Department in Washington, DC.
I spent most of my life keeping score. I’m sure everyone does to some extent.
From kindergarten and throughout college, I played field hockey. Much of my performance was defined by numbers that became a measure of success. Wins, losses, goals, assists, each number adds up to something bigger. In many ways, that structure is a good thing. It taught me discipline, accountability, teamwork, leadership, communication, and perseverance. But it also came with a downside. When you don’t get the score you want, it can affect your entire day, and sometimes even how you see yourself.
That mindset followed me beyond sports. Tests, grades, evaluations. Life started feeling like an endless series of score cards. A “good” score meant I was doing well, and a “bad” one meant I was failing.
Golf, in many ways, is the perfect extension of this scoring mentality. It is a game built entirely around numbers, with scores like pars, bogeys, double bogeys, and in my case, quite a few quadruple bogeys. Every hole comes with an expectation, and every swing gets you closer to or further from it. It is a game where perfection is nearly impossible yet constantly pursued.
And just like in other areas of my life, I noticed the same pattern. A bad hole lingers. A rough front nine becomes an entire round. At some point, I realized it didn’t have to be that serious.
It never actually had to be serious at all.
The difference a smiley face can make
Yes, you keep score. Yes, performance matters. But what matters isn’t always the same as the number at the end. It’s more likely to be how you felt along the way. This shift is what led me to start scoring my golf rounds differently: smiley faces.
I replaced the numbers on the scorecard with expressions. A happy face for a hole that felt good, had a good shot, a small victory, or even just a moment I enjoyed. A neutral face for the in-between holes and a sad face for the ones that didn’t go quite as planned. Nothing complicated and nothing exact, only a reflection of the experience. It sounds simple and maybe even ridiculous, but it changed everything.
By replacing scores with something arbitrary, I removed the pressure of perfection. A quadruple bogey didn’t carry the same weight when it was a small frown on the card. A good hole felt more meaningful because it wasn’t about beating par; it was about how it felt in the moment. The game became lighter and honestly more meaningful.
Life is not a constant tally of results
The truth is that life doesn’t need to be a constant tally of results. Not everything needs to be measured, graded, or compared. When you live too much in “score mode,” you risk tying your self-worth to single outcomes that are often out of your control. You forget that not every moment is meant to be optimized or even evaluated. What matters most, in the end, is your experience.
Did you find something to enjoy? Did you learn something? Did you show up, even though it was hard? Those are the things that numbers and grades don’t represent but also what truly matter in the long run.
A reminder to laugh and celebrate
In a way, smiley face scoring is just a small reminder to take life a little less seriously. It’s a reminder that you’re allowed to laugh at the bad shots, celebrate the small wins, and let go of moments that don’t go your way.
I still understand the value of scores, and they have their place. They just aren’t the whole story and never were. Because at the end of the day, whether it’s sports, school, work, or life itself, you don’t have to let numbers define your experiences. You can choose to look at things a little more lightly, and sometimes all it takes is a smile.