At first, I wanted to write about my first chess tournament on January 11th. But procrastination got the best of me, and I’ve played in two more tournaments since then. Then, I thought about writing a long, detailed article on how I went from a beginner to a high ELO player (maybe 1600-1800). But a friend called me out and said, “Just write and publish. Stop waiting for the perfect story.” And honestly? She was right. So, I’m keeping it simple and just sharing my journey as it happens.
I started learning chess from scratch in 2023, joining my local city club, which offers beginner chess classes for adults on Saturdays. Since then, I’ve attended religiously and recently moved up to the intermediate class. But from September 2023 to December 2024, I was doing the bare minimum—showing up for class, listening to the teacher, and leaving right after. I never stayed to play with other students because I was too busy/not good enough/watching Arcane/insert any other excuse.
Then, something happened that ruined all my excuses—I made friends at the club. Suddenly, I was sticking around, playing more games, and (of course) losing a lot.
But one day, I won two matches in a row—checkmating my opponent both times—and felt like the Queen of the board! Obviously, I took pictures of the board and told everyone about it.
By the end of December 2024, I was all in. The New Year’s resolution high hit me, and I told myself, “2025 is the year I get better at chess.” But I knew I needed some extra pressure to stay committed. So, I made a deal with myself: play more at the club, never turn down a game, practice on Chess.com, and sign up for any local tournament my club promoted.
And, well… the universe wasted no time testing me. Just as I made this resolution, an email popped up—an all-female tournament on January 11th, free to join, and right near home. No excuses left. I had to go for it.
First chess tournament January 11th
This was an all-female tournament meant to encourage more women and girls to play chess. But honestly, they should’ve called it an all-girls tournament instead—because about 80% of the players were under 10 years old. The software matched me exclusively against kids, and let me tell you, they were tough.
It was a seven rounds tournament with 20 minutes per player. My goal? Win at least one game so I wouldn’t go home completely humiliated. And guess what? I won two. Woohoo!
Most of the girls I played were seriously impressive. One of them was just four years old—she could barely see over the table! But don’t be fooled—she was good. Turns out, she’s a member of my local club too and already one of the top young players there.
All the girls were lovely. Well… almost all. One of them? A total little brat. The first thing she said when I sat down was, “Won’t you be too embarrassed to lose against a child?” The audacity. Later, when she took my queen, she smirked and asked, “Are you okay, ma’am?”
“Yes, I’m okay.”
“Because, you know, you just lost your queen.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
I wish I could tell you that I destroyed her. But no—she won. My only little revenge? Watching her lose her final game and run off crying into her dad’s arms. Karma.
But honestly? I had a blast. I was proud of myself for showing up, and I realized it wasn’t nearly as scary as I thought. I was ready for more.
36 out of 45, I can only move up I guess.
A full weekend of chess tournament
Right before the February holidays, my local club organized two tournaments: one for kids and their parents, and another—a real FIDE-rated tournament. The day I got the email invitations, I was feeling extra motivated (pretty sure my ADHD meds were kicking in), so I signed up for both.
Both tournaments were fast-paced—seven rounds, nine minutes per player, with a two-second increment. I had never played blitz before. In fact, our teacher told us we weren’t ready for fast games. But he also said we should start playing tournaments as soon as possible to gain experience. So, I figured… why not?
I won two games on Saturday and two on Sunday. Not amazing, but hey, I didn’t leave empty-handed! I even lost one game on time, which was frustrating because my opponent—a little girl—wasn’t playing well, just fast. She kept slamming moves to pressure me on the clock, and it worked. But I got my revenge the next day. She was in the FIDE tournament too, and we were paired in the first round. This time, I took her down in three minutes with a simple Scholar’s Mate. It felt so satisfying to play her own game against her.
Obviously, I lost most of my other matches. Blitz is hard. And even at the lowest tables, the FIDE tournament was no joke. But honestly? The more I lost, the more I wanted to improve.
One thing that stuck with me, though—at both tournaments, we were only two female seniors. And at the highest tables? All men. Maybe one day I’ll write about women in chess, but it’s a tricky topic—just like women in tech. And plenty of people have already covered it better than I could.
Try to find my name in the FIDE score. Keep scrolling
My motivations
Lately, I’ve been playing chess with a colleague during our lunch breaks. And losing. A lot. He played competitively as a kid, so I never really stood a chance.
Note: He played competitively as a kid but lost all the joy of it, quit competition and did a very long break from chess.
Yesterday, after I told him about my training plan, he asked me, Why do you want so badly to improve at this game?
Fair question. If I’m going to put in the effort to learn with deliberate practice, I should know what’s driving me. So, here are my reasons, in no particular order:
Making up for lost time
At my club, I see kids learning chess super early—through school tournaments, club events, and outreach programs. I, on the other hand, didn’t even see a chessboard as a child. No one around me played. So now that I’ve discovered a game I love, I want to make up for all those years I missed.
Sharpening my problem-solving skills
It’s easy to settle into a comfortable routine—letting my brain rest after work, sticking to what I already know. But learning to code made me realize how weak my problem-solving skills are. Either I don’t see an obvious answer, or I give up too quickly. Chess forces me to think harder and push through challenges. And interestingly, on days when I solve chess puzzles, I also perform better on code wars kata.
Keeping my brain active
I know, I’m not old. But I also don’t want to wait until I am to start taking care of my brain. I think of it like a muscle—use it or lose it. And I’ll admit, I have a deep fear of neurodegenerative diseases (my grandmother had Alzheimer’s), so keeping my brain engaged feels important.
Proving I won’t quit
I may not be the strongest or the fastest, but I am persistent. I’ve always been the kind of person who keeps going, even when progress is slow. Chess is another test of that—learning, failing, trying again. It worked for me in the past, and I know it will work again.
Showing up in a male-dominated space
I’m used to being one of the only women in the room—at work, in my boxing gym, on my bike, at meetups. I’ve been lucky; I’ve never faced sexism in these spaces. But it can still feel isolating. In boxing, biology gives men an undeniable advantage, no matter how hard I train. But in chess? It’s just the board, the pieces, and the moves we make. And that’s a challenge I’m excited to take on.
Having fun
As an adult, it’s great to have social activities that aren’t tied to work. I don’t have kids yet, so I have the time, and I’m really enjoying my Saturday afternoons at the club. My class is a mix of teenagers and retirees—my best friend there is over 80! It’s refreshing to chat with people from different backgrounds than I’m used to. I know that when I have kids, I won’t be able to keep all my hobbies—I’ll have to make some choices. But until then, I want to enjoy every moment.
My training plan
After losing so many games at tournaments—against kids, against my coworker who hadn’t played in years—it stung a little.
During the second week of February’s school holidays, my club organized a week-long chess workshop: two hours every evening. And there I was, feeling weak again. I struggled to find solutions on the board and kept losing to the other participants—at least this time, they were all adults.
One evening, I walked with our teacher to the train station. He’s a math professor at La Sorbonne and even wrote a thesis on chess to become an official instructor. I figured he must have learned as a kid, so I asked when he started playing. He smirked and said, “If I tell you, you won’t believe me.” I pressed him for an answer. Finally, he admitted: 2012. Just 13 years ago! He started as a full-grown adult. There was hope!
I need to put together a real training plan with deliberate practice. It’s almost bedtime as I’m writing this, so maybe this plan deserves more research and a dedicated blog post. But here are a few ideas to start with:
I asked my teacher for advice on improving my theoretical and tactical knowledge. He told me not to bother learning every single opening—just 2–3 per color is enough.
At my last tournament, I asked the other senior female player for her best tip. She recommended practicing endgames, which I didn’t even realize was a thing. Turns out, chess.com has a whole mode just for that!
Then, I found out that the city where I played my first tournament is hosting an event at the end of March, featuring Marie Sebag, the highest-rated French female player, leading a workshop. Obviously, I signed up immediately.
And finally—because I love putting extra pressure on myself—I want to play at least 100 games on chess.com and document my progress (or lack thereof).
With this plan taking shape, I’m feeling more hopeful and excited to practice. I can’t wait to see how much I improve! And I guess I won’t have to wait long—there’s another all-female tournament coming up in just two weeks. Let’s see how it goes!
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