Wheelchair tennis, ambition and changing perceptions

I discovered wheelchair tennis when I was 10. From the very first session, I loved the feeling of freedom. The wheelchair did not limit me. It allowed me to go after the ball. You had to anticipate the bounce. Move the chair. Hit. And think very quickly. It was like learning three sports at the same time.

At first, I simply played for fun. I never thought I would become French champion or join the French national teams. Then I started competing. I won some matches. I lost a lot of them too. But I always wanted to get back on court. In 2025, I won the French U18 junior wheelchair tennis title at Roland-Garros.

I also won the British national title in quad doubles. At 13, I also broke into the world junior U18 Top 50. Tennis gave me confidence. A goal. And the opportunity to do things I probably would never have done without my disability. It is quite paradoxical. My disability creates difficulties. But it has also opened a path for me.

It was my first year as a ball kid at Roland-Garros. I went through the selections and the training. I received no special treatment. That was important to me. From the side of the court, you see things television does not show. You hear the players breathing. You see the look in their eyes after an error. You notice their routines between points.

I was lucky enough to be on Court Philippe-Chatrier for the women’s final and on Suzanne-Lenglen for wheelchair tennis. But what struck me most goes beyond the champions. More than 300 young people work together during the tournament. They learn to be punctual. To take responsibility. To help one another. To stay focused. Every role matters. The players are at the centre of the court. But all around them, many people are working to help them perform at their best.

I mostly watch what they do between points. The best players can lose a very important point without letting that point destroy the next one. They breathe. They reset. They start again. I really like Ben Shelton’s energy. He shows his emotions. He plays with a lot of intensity.

I also watch Tokito Oda, the Japanese world No. 1 in wheelchair tennis. At only 19, he had already won all four Grand Slam tournaments and a Paralympic gold medal. He became the youngest wheelchair tennis player to complete a career Golden Slam.

At 19, neither Sinner nor Alcaraz had achieved an equivalent feat. Yet very few people know Tokito Oda’s name. That shows there is still a long way to go before wheelchair tennis receives the visibility it deserves. To me, he is also proof that you can be very young and already have very big ambitions.

In wheelchair tennis, I pay particular attention to movement. A second bounce is allowed. But the best players often try to take the ball on the first bounce. They move forward. They take time away from their opponent. That is also what I am trying to develop in my own game. Pressure never really disappears. Great players have simply learned how to move forward with it.

I mainly remember the moment when I came back to 5-5 in the first set. I was 5-2 down. Two breaks behind. At that point, I was not thinking about the title. I simply wanted to win the next point. Then another one.

When I got back to 5-5, I started to feel that the match could turn. I won the first set in a tie-break. Then I lost the second. Mentally, I had to start all over again. I had also lost to Cléo in the round-robin stage. So I knew she could beat me.

Match point remains a very strong image in my mind. But what I am most proud of is that I did not give up when I was behind. That match taught me something important. You can be in serious trouble without being beaten.

I was supposed to defend my title this year. Unfortunately, the French Championships at Roland-Garros were cancelled because of the heatwave. It is disappointing. I would really have liked to defend my title on court. But there is still a small positive side. I am still the reigning French U18 junior champion!

I live in London and train around eight to ten hours a week. I mainly train in London. I also travel regularly to France to work with the French Tennis Federation and the French national teams.

At the start of the new school year, I will be joining the City of London School. I am also taking a philosophy course at Stanford Online High School. I like philosophy and critical thinking.

I am also becoming increasingly interested in psychology, biology and how the brain works. So I am both a student and an athlete. Both matter to me. Then you have to add travel, physical preparation and recovery.

I have a neuromuscular condition. I have to listen to my body and manage my energy. Some days are harder. I am not motivated every morning. But I like making progress. Not only as a player. Also as a student and as a person. Tennis is a big part of my life. I do not want it to be my whole life.

There was not one single event. It was more something I noticed gradually. When people talk about disability and parasport, they often talk about limitations or inclusion. Those are important subjects. But people talk less about performance, ambition and excellence.

I wanted to bring all of those ideas into the same conversation. So I created On_Wheels in 2025 to tell the stories of para-athletes. Not only my own. The wheelchair is visible. The work behind it is much less visible.

The training. The defeats. The progress. The technique. The joy of playing. All of that deserves to be shown too. One On_Wheels post passed five million views. That is a lot. But what matters most is what those views can produce.

Giving visibility to other athletes. Making a young person want to try a sport. Changing the way people look at disability. And, in the longer term, using that visibility to support research into spinal muscular atrophy and neuromuscular diseases. The central idea is simple. Performance changes perception.

At 13, I broke into the world junior U18 Top 50. At the start of my international journey, I represented Great Britain. The French Tennis Federation then offered me the opportunity to change my sporting nationality and move from the British flag to the French flag. That allowed me to join its performance structure and national teams.

I accepted. Today, I am a member of the French junior and adult national teams in the Quad category. Of course, I remain French, British and Thai. It was a sporting choice. Not a change of identity. From September, at 14, I will be able to start playing regularly on the international adult circuit.

My next goal is to become a more complete player. I need to improve my movement. Play further forward. Take more balls on the first bounce. Be more consistent under pressure. My goal is to reach the world Top 10 by 2030. The longer-term goal is very clear. To represent France at the Brisbane 2032 Paralympic Games.

I know that is a very ambitious goal. Nothing is guaranteed. There are six years of work, progress and competition ahead. I am also realistic about life as a wheelchair tennis player. We compete at the same Grand Slam tournaments as non-disabled players. But very few wheelchair tennis players can make a living from the sport alone.

Visibility, prize money and sponsorship opportunities are still very different. That is also why my studies are essential. I want to pursue tennis at the highest level possible. But I also want to build a future beyond the court. Perhaps one day at an American university. Rankings and titles are important. But they should be the result of the daily work. You cannot control how far you will go. You can control how you work today.

The first image that comes to mind is Brisbane in 2032. I see myself wearing the French team shirt. My racket in my hand. Ready to go on court. I would also like to return to Roland-Garros as a player.

This time, not only at the side of the court. But I do not want to choose between being an athlete, a student or someone who is committed to helping others. I want to continue all three.

I would like to become a high-level player. Keep learning. Help people discover the stories of other para-athletes. And contribute, at my own level, to research into neuromuscular diseases.

I was born with spinal muscular atrophy. It explains the way I move. It does not define who I am. Or what I can become. I do not know exactly how far this path will take me. But I know where to start. I really like this quote from Arthur Ashe: “Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.”