There's a strange thing that happens standing over a three-foot putt. The hole looks smaller than it did from ten feet away. Your grip gets a little tighter. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a voice starts narrating like it's the 18th at Augusta.
Here's a small reframe that helps more than it should: that three-footer isn't a test. It's a gift. You already did the hard part — the drive, the approach, the two putts that got you here. This last one is just the celebration lap. A chance to finish clean and walk to the next tee with your head up.
The golfers who make these consistently aren't the ones who fear them most — they're the ones who've decided, somewhere along the way, that a short putt is just a formality on a good hole, not a referendum on their whole game.
So next time you're standing over one, try saying it to yourself, even just in your head: this one's for fun. Then go finish the job.
Small putts, small joys. That's most of golf, if you let it be.