Two Sides of the Same Coin: Understanding Sam Smith’s Tennis Journey Through a Neurodivergent Lens

Written by Olivia Rae. Subheadings added by the Neurodiverse Sport team to support readability.

This blog marks the start of Wimbledon by spotlighting a different kind of tennis story—one of nuance, resilience, and rediscovery. Sam Smith, a former British Ladies No. 1 tennis player, Olympian, and now a leading broadcaster, shares her journey navigating elite sport as an undiagnosed autistic person. Told with striking honesty, this is a story of both difficulty and calm—recklessness and discipline—reminding us that true understanding begins when we flip the narrative and look again.


Sam Smith

The Two Sides of Sam Smith

Before a tennis match, a coin-toss decides if you serve or receive first. Fifty-fifty odds. It’s luck.

Sam Smith’s career, in some ways, reflects that coin toss. Depending on how you view it, her journey could be described as one of recklessness, difficulty, and disruption—or flip the coin, and you find discipline, ease, and calm. Her story reminds us that behaviour seen as problematic may actually be strategic, sensitive, or simply different.

“Ask Whatever You Want.”

Sam tells her story in the back room of a studio. She shuts the door, asks for the music to be turned off, moves away from the sunlight. She’s assertive, calm, and kind—a presence that shapes the space she’s in. She invites conversation openly: “Ask whatever you want.”

From the outset, Sam shares that she was always sport-orientated. She remembers feeling much calmer when she was hitting a sponge ball against her bedroom wall. It was how she channelled her hyperactivity—how she focused.

Her calm continued into broadcasting. She describes how broadcasting made her feel grounded from the very first time she did it. That same core need for calm—through focus, repetition, and control—has been a thread throughout her life.


Sam Smith, Wimbledon

Early Coaching: Luck or Alignment?

Sam’s talent began in her bedroom and garage before moving into structured coaching. But those early group sessions were hard. She would often run off court or appear unresponsive. To some, that looked like difficulty. To Sam, it was discomfort and overwhelm.

Then came a moment of luck—a coach who was connected through a school friend. Her family expected the coach to say she was difficult. But instead, the coach saw Sam clearly. Their partnership was, in Sam’s words, “a dream.” Visual learning tools, like picture books, helped her grasp technical ideas. She wasn’t disruptive. She was disciplined, in the right setting.

“She just trained me in the perfect way for me.”

The Academy Experience: A Breaking Point

After her A-levels, Sam moved to an academy in America to play tennis full time. But the environment didn’t work for her. She describes it as a breaking point. Rooms changed each time she returned from tour. Her time management, organisation, and wellbeing deteriorated.

“I need a place to recharge, and a busy house is not it.”

Just like in those group sessions as a child, Sam needed to escape the overwhelm. Her talent hadn’t disappeared, but the conditions for her success had. The structure was gone, and with it, her sense of calm.

When Structure Returns, Performance Follows

The Olympics were different. Sam had structure. Transport, logistics, a manager. She didn’t have to think too much about the off-court noise. She could just focus on tennis.

That contrast reveals something crucial: when her off-court responsibilities were removed, Sam flourished. But tennis wasn’t always the Olympics. The in-between took a toll.

“I was about a hundred in the world. I've just been to the Olympics. You don't give that up… But I wasn't okay.”


The Power of Permission

At a pivotal moment, Sam made the decision to quit tennis and go to university. People didn’t understand—she had momentum, talent, a world ranking. But her coach, the same coach who had always understood her, said: “Well, don’t.”

That simple permission was game-changing. It allowed Sam to rest, recover, and reset.


Sam Smith, Tennis Broadcasting

Recovery, Reset, Return

University became a place of calm. There was no pressure, no performance expectations. Sam rebuilt her confidence and sense of self. She recovered from burnout—though she didn’t know it at the time.

“I got myself into a good place and I just thought I’ll give it a go for a year.”

She re-entered tennis gently, playing for her university team. And from there, she soared. Sam broke into the top 100 and reached a career-high world ranking of 55. She beat a former champion and top-10 seed at Wimbledon. The very sport she had left behind welcomed her back, stronger than ever.

Diagnosis: Everything Made Sense

Sam’s career ended through injury, but her self-discovery continued. When she received her Autism diagnosis, it brought understanding, not limitation. It explained so much. Her need for calm. Her struggles in group settings. Her powerful focus. Her unique perspective.

“It was the best thing that ever happened to me… everything made sense.”

Knowing What She Needs Now

Today, Sam manages her energy intentionally. After heavy periods of work, she gives herself two days to recover. No phones, no people, no inputs. She shuts the door and recharges.

“I’m finding I recover quickly now. So, I’m not utterly depleted all the time.”

The clarity brought by her diagnosis has helped her move from survival to strategy.


For more reflections from Olivia Rae, follow her on Instagram @ollierae14.


Takeaways from Sam Smith’s Story

For Neurodivergent Individuals:

  • Your needs are real.

    →  A calm environment and clear structure aren't indulgences—they’re necessary supports.

  • Find what works for you.

    →  One-to-one coaching, visual tools, or strategic recovery might make all the difference.

  • You don’t have to explain yourself.

    →  The right people won’t label you “difficult”—they’ll adapt.


For Peers and Supporters:

  • Back someone’s decision, even if it’s unexpected.

    →  Sam’s coach gave her permission to quit—and it changed her life.

  • Respect recovery time.

    →  Being “off” doesn’t mean lazy—it means recharging.

  • Understand that success looks different.

    →  Showing up and stepping away can both be valid choices.


For Coaches, Leaders, and Organisations:

  • Learn your athletes’ learning styles.

    →  Visual tools, quiet spaces, and one-to-one support can unlock performance.

  • Structure equals freedom.

    →  Provide clarity and reduce off-court pressure so athletes can focus on their sport.

  • Challenge your assumptions.

    →  What looks like non-compliance might be overwhelm.


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