Competition runs deep in my family.
Basketball isn’t just a sport — it’s often the language we speak, the way we show love, and sometimes the way we settle disagreements.
I’m the fourth of six kids, and every one of us grew up competing on the backyard court my parents built.
My mom and dad both played college basketball. Four of my siblings did, too. So, whether it was one-on-one battles or made-up games my brothers invented just to get under our skin, nothing was ever taken lightly.
Those games got loud. They got physical. But more than anything, they taught us resilience. Losing meant getting better for the next round. Winning meant taking a hit and still smiling about it.
Every bounce of the ball built something in me — a mix of grit, gratitude, and joy that would become the foundation for everything that followed.
That’s where I learned how to fight for what I want — and how to love something enough to give it everything I’ve got.
Finding My Fit
By the time I got to college, basketball had already taken me around the country. I’d competed on elite club teams, represented USA Basketball, and met coaches who pushed me to reach new levels.
But when you get to college, you realize quickly that the right fit matters more than anything else.
When I decided to transfer midway through my sophomore year of college, it wasn’t because I didn’t love where I was.
It was because I wanted a program that reflected who I was, both as a player and as a person.
Oklahoma was already at the top of my list.
I’d watched Coach Jennie Baranczyk’s teams for years. Her system was free-flowing, instinctual, and fast — the kind of basketball that lets you play with joy. It was fearless and creative. It rewarded trust.
I reached out and committed to her before I even told my parents.
I just knew.
When I arrived on campus, I couldn’t play right away. But that didn’t matter. The team took me in completely — teammates offering housing, coaches making sure I was in every drill and film session, even though I couldn’t take the floor.
I’ll never forget that first shootaround. No rigid plays. No hesitation. Just basketball. Just feel.
For the first time in a long time, it felt like the game I’d grown up playing in my backyard. It was the game I fell in love with: fast, loose, and fun.
That’s when I knew I’d made the right choice.
Confidence and Connection
The transition wasn’t perfect.
Sitting out and watching from the sidelines can test your patience. You have to rediscover what you bring to the table beyond the stat sheet.
For me, that meant leading vocally — encouraging teammates, studying every nuance of the system, and learning when to speak up and when to listen. It meant finding joy in small wins: a great practice rep, a teammate’s breakout game, a collective spark that carried us into March.
That season taught me to trust not only my instincts but also the people around me. Everyone at Oklahoma — from the coaches to the players to the staff — made sure I felt like I belonged.
That’s something I’ll never forget.
When I finally took the floor in a Sooners uniform, I wasn’t nervous.
I was ready. Confident. Grounded.
Playing in Coach Baranczyk’s system is a dream for someone like me. You’re expected to play free — to trust your read, make the extra pass, dive for the loose ball, and play with joy. It’s a challenge, but a good one.
You can’t fake confidence in this system. You have to earn it.
And I love that.
Paying It Forward
Basketball has given me more than I could ever give back, but I’m trying.
This past summer, my sister Ashton, my mom, and I started Payton Verhulst Rise, an AAU program for young female athletes in our hometown. Our goal is simple: to provide a platform for growth, confidence, and community — without the barriers that keep so many girls from playing.
We wanted something that wasn’t about money or prestige but about access and joy. Somewhere kids could learn the game, build relationships, and discover what drives them.
We started small, hoping for one team. Dozens of players showed up for tryouts. We had more interest than we could’ve imagined.
That told us we were meeting a real need.
Watching my sister coach our first teams reminded me of everything I love about basketball: the laughter, the competition, and the belief that something special can grow when people come together around a shared purpose.
I got to come home during OU-Texas football weekend and see them play in a tournament. Sitting in the stands, I felt the same sense of pride I do when I’m on the court.
My sister was in her element. The girls were smiling, cheering each other on, loving every moment.
That’s what this is all about — creating a space where young girls can see that they belong. Through basketball, they can learn to compete, communicate effectively, and carry themselves with confidence both on and off the court.
Every time I see one of those girls lace up their sneakers, I think back to my own childhood with the backyard court, parents yelling encouragement from the sideline, and all the moments that shaped me.
Now I get to help shape theirs.
Family, Faith, and the Future
I’ve been blessed with opportunities that go far beyond the court. I‘ve earned my degree in elementary education and am now pursuing a master’s in administration.
As for what’s next, I’m keeping the door open for wherever basketball or life takes me next.
Teaching and coaching both speak to the same part of me — the part that believes in helping others grow. Whether I’m leading a classroom, running a practice, or mentoring younger players, it’s about planting seeds that will outlast me.
At the heart of everything, it still comes back to faith, family, and gratitude.
Faith reminds me why I’m here. Family keeps me grounded. Gratitude pushes me forward.
Those early days battling my siblings taught me to compete. Oklahoma taught me to trust. And through Rise, I’ve learned what it truly means to give back.
Basketball will always be part of my story — but more than that, it’s the way I’ve learned to lift others through it.
Every pass, every lesson, every opportunity connects back to that same purpose: to help the next generation rise higher.
Website
Twitter/X
