Melissa Rose Reid, born September 19, 1987, in Derby, England – the very middle of England, as she says. Daughter to Brian and Joy Reid. The youngest of seven by 11 years. Named after two of the strongest women her dad has ever known: his mother, Rose, and a character in one of his favorite books, “Melissa,” by Taylor Caldwell.
A Promise
It’s almost like Mel’s parents knew the moment they laid eyes upon their daughter that strength was her superpower. An extrovert through and through, Mel’s sense of humor, endless banter and spontaneity are what most first notice about her. But underneath that is something even more special.
You will find a whole lot of promise. A promise to fight. To speak up. A promise to live up to her name.
Even before Mel first picked up a golf club, there was always promise. Football (soccer) was her first love. But since many of her football buddies played golf, she decided to take a crack at it.
Mel was 11 years old when she looked to be a promising junior player. Before long, golf was a full-blown obsession. Brian and Joy would drop her off at her local course, Chevin Golf Club, at 7 a.m. and she would play until daylight no longer allowed. It was just her and the boys, often playing 45 holes in a day.
Her calloused hands started to pay dividends. At age 13, Mel was scouted for England Golf and later joined the Faldo Series, where she competed with the likes of Rory McIlroy, Oliver Fisher and Henni Zuël (Koyack). She was a high-caliber junior golfer now with dreams of turning professional.
That dream didn’t come without a price: working a “real” job. Joy made certain Mel didn’t get too big for her britches when she was still a kid. She worked as a waitress at Chevin Golf Club when she was 14, and later held a job at the Breadsall Priory Marriott gym and pool.
Finding Meaning
Perhaps these were the lessons Mel needed to learn early on that guided her into the professional arena. She didn’t grow up with endless resources. She earned money herself and would save up her paycheck (all £20) to buy a new club. She didn’t have the best climate. She practiced in rain, shine, wind and snow. She didn’t have parents who told her everything she wanted to hear. She had parents who told her to work hard in everything she did.
It was 2007 when Mel turned professional and had her first dose of adversity: missing out on her Ladies European Tour (LET) card. Sponsor invites kept her afloat until the 2008 Australian Open, where she finished third. This allowed her to compete in events the rest of the year; she capitalized and was named LET Rookie of the Year. She would go on to win six LET events between 2008 and 2017.
Life was really good in the early days of Mel’s professional career. Although it didn’t necessarily come easy, Mel was living and breathing everything she dreamed of. She had lifelong memories, like her dad caddieing for her in the 2007 Women’s British Open, where she finished as the low amateur. She had lifelong friends. She was a professional golfer. No more school. No more side hustles. Just a professional golfer. Finally.
Four years into her time on the LET, Mel was tested yet again. It was May 23, 2012, when she got the phone call that no one wants. Brian and Joy were in a car accident on their way to watch Mel compete in Munich, Germany. They weren’t sure if Joy was going to make it.
Memories so vivid and ingrained in Mel’s mind forever: Getting that phone call. Driving to the hospital in an unfamiliar place. Seeing her mom before she was taken far too soon. Telling her siblings. It’s a level of heartache that never goes away.
A piece of herself and a piece of home were lost that day. A perspective was shifted. Life, and her destiny, were given a new meaning.
Only in America
I never had the chance to meet Joy, but from the stories I know, Mel got all of her best qualities. She is caring and confident, tender and passionate. The tears we now share together wishing her mum were still with us, through all the peaks and valleys, remind us both that life is so fragile. Little does Mel know that the days where she becomes completely vulnerable are the days I see her at her strongest.
Hoisting her first LPGA trophy, sure. Coming out publicly, sure. But choosing to live a life of purpose at every turn even amidst tragedy that weighs her down more than any person would like to imagine – that’s strength, and that’s what I admire the most.
One might look at Mel’s career and say that the death of her mum stunted her career for a few years. She admits she rushed back when she won on the LET almost exactly a month after the car accident. From there, grief really ran its course.
In a weird, roundabout way, grief is what led us to each other. I met Mel at the 2018 Ryder Cup in Paris; I was there for work and she was doing on-course commentary for BBC. I worked with her best friend at the time, which is how we were introduced. Mel was coming out of a long-term relationship, on the verge of losing her LPGA card, didn’t have a lot of money and was hesitant to leave her best mate, her dad, on his own in England. Things were looking better, but she was still unhappy.
Mel made a massive leap not long after we met by moving to America. She knew there was more opportunity, better climate and an easier travel schedule. She knew this was a big step in bettering herself. With her back against the wall, she crushed her two weeks at LPGA Qualifying school (for a second time) to regain her LPGA status in 2018.
I asked her what her plan was if she didn’t get her card. She didn’t have a Plan B, which is why I believe she played so well. Her fight shined that week.
Many see that Mel enjoys a few beers, having a good laugh and giving people a hard time. But I felt like I saw straight through her from Day One. I saw the soft side. I saw how deeply she cares for the people close to her. I saw how generous she was with her time. I saw how much she really, truly wants to make our world a better place.
I sent Mel a text after that Ryder Cup telling her she was the best human I’ve ever met. Needless to say, she hasn’t let me down since. She’s lived up to that statement and then some. We are set to be married in April 2022.
Dancing with Time
Since losing her mum in 2012, Mel has learned how to live, not just survive. Her dreams know no boundaries. Whether she’s playing a money game with Brooks Koepka, winning her first LPGA event, or working on one of her goals, such as starting a clothing line or a nonprofit, Mel has an uncanny ability to manifest what she wants. It’s only a matter of time before all of these things come to fruition.
It was just the other day she told me she felt something really big was going to happen. She said she has a feeling about the U.S. Women’s Open, a major that’s circled every year. She said she has a feeling about the Olympics, which she’s on the cusp of qualifying for. For the first time in her life, she told me, she knows that all the pieces of the puzzle fit snugly together.
It took time and some mistakes, of learning the hard way early in her career. But her team now – Jorge Parada (coach), Howard Falco (mental coach), Ken Macdonald (trainer), Anne-Lise Bidou (physio), Cosette Chaput (agent), Ryan Desveaux (caddie) – is bringing out the best in Mel behind the scenes. One of the most rewarding things in the world for me, as her partner, is watching her team notice and embrace what I’ve always seen.
They are providing a level of support that she finally believes she deserves. I’ll never forget her first call with her agency, when they told her, “We don’t care about the wins or the money – we see something in you that’s incredibly special, that there is so much more to you than just golf.”
She’s more empowered than she ever has been because of these people around her. Mel has always said that winning isn’t everything, but it certainly gives her a bigger platform to speak up about things that matter, like equality. That chip on her shoulder will never go away. She sees the big picture.
The grind of being a professional athlete is no joke. Going through tragic family loss and carrying that weight on your shoulders throughout it all is tiring. Her journey is admirable in every way imaginable if you’re on the outside looking in, but even more so on the inside looking out. In being strong, Mel gives others strength.
Mission accomplished? No... to be continued.
Carly Grenfell is a social media content manager for the PGA Tour.