Like most students at Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU),
Audrey Chen is learning more about herself with each passing day.
But what she does with that daily dose of newfound knowledge is what's most impressive about the Business Management student.
Within moments of meeting Chen, it's easy to feel the calmness that surrounds her. There's still an undeniable excitement and intensity underneath it all. That's not surprising for any university student-athlete. However, Chen exudes a unique type of confidence and bravado found in only the most secure athletes.
It's why she's able to take this interview mere days before the OUA Badminton National Championship.
Chen's ultimate goal is to win, but even if she doesn't, that's okay too.
Thanks to her teammates, Chen has already found something more valuable than any victory.
"They really inspired me to love the sport again," said Chen.
To fall back in love with something requires an initial admiration. For Chen, that process began when she was eight years old. Chen's mother had always encouraged her to try various sports and hobbies. Despite a thorough search, they encountered difficulties finding something that matched Chen's vibe.
"I would spend hours in the park but I'm not playing in the sand like all the other kids," said Chen. "I'm the one climbing trees, I've always been very high energy."
Eventually, it became clear that Chen was taking a liking to badminton. She played recreationally with her family and friends. The sport's kinetic nature seemed like such an obvious fit for Chen that her mother enrolled her in badminton camps. While at one of the camps, it soon dawned on Chen that she was being introduced to the competitive side of the badminton world.
"I left the last day of camp crying," said Chen. "I remember being really frustrated that there were other kids better than me."
While Chen used her peers as a measuring stick, there was an internal competition simultaneously raging inside her own head.
"I've always been competitive in a sense of realizing I can do more," said Chen. "I've always wanted to do more and be better."
Chen parlayed her frustration into the next sensible stop of her journey. With her mother's help, Chen signed up for weekly badminton sessions. That soon turned into travelling for tournaments. Weekends became reserved exclusively for badminton. Eventually, the commitments were adding up, especially with Chen's other extracurricular activities. By this time, Chen was about to start high school, which would subsequently add to her already hectic schedule.
When Chen's family later found a new home in Marham, Ont., essentially moving her further away from her coaches, a decision was made to quit training. Chen ultimately played on her school team in ninth grade, but her passion for the sport continued its downward spiral.
It wasn't as fun anymore.
When COVID shut things down, Chen believed her badminton days were over.
"That's when I thought I was done with badminton… I'm never picking up the racket again," said Chen.
Badminton may have escaped her during some of her formative teenage years, but one thing she held onto was her camera. While it was Chen's mother who helped get her into badminton, she credits her father for her athleticism.
Though her dad excelled at sports, it was his passion for film and photography that left a lasting impression.
"Everywhere my family went on vacation or during everyday life, he always had a camera to take photos or record video," said Chen.
When she was young, Chen was gifted her own camera by her father. Even as a child, Chen recalls talking into the lens like she was vlogging, and her knack for being in front of a camera carried over into her late adolescent years.
Inspired by her friends who constantly encouraged her to make videos, Chen developed a talent for shooting and editing content. Like with badminton, it was only a matter of time before she levelled up.
Before her first year of university, Chen and her mother went shopping for a new laptop. When Chen came across a discount for the editing program Final Cut Pro with the purchase of a new laptop, she urged her mother to consider the extra add-on. They eventually agreed to share the costs and it turned out to be one of the best decisions she's ever made.
"I love to edit," said Chen. "It's very therapeutic."
Chen's YouTube channel currently has over 1,500 subscribers. Her blossoming creativity is best showcased in one video following TMU's badminton team travelling to the 2025 National Championship in Laval. The vlog has amassed over 26,000 views. It's an accomplishment that she can be proud of, particularly as a student minoring in marketing.
While Chen hasn't consistently kept up with uploading new content in the way she would prefer, she finds irreplaceable value in her videos that go beyond the view count.
"I'll go look at my old vlogs and they just bring back so much memory and nostalgia," said Chen. "I watch them back and I know exactly how I felt in that moment."
Chen's ability to capture moments through video is one way she feels connected to her father, and in turn, to her own culture.
For nearly the first decade of her life, Chen lived in Shanghai. Two reasons for this were her father's job and his preference for Chen to be bilingual.
"He never wanted us to miss out on being in touch with our culture and roots," said Chen. "I'm really thankful that I'm still completely fluent in Mandarin."
Her unique childhood also brought her to Taiwan, where her family originated from. Regardless of where her early adventures took her, Chen found joy living in Asia. Some of her earliest memories involve frequent family biking trips organized by her father, especially along beautiful scenic routes.
In the summer of 2012, that made the family's decision to move Chen and her brother to Canada a painful reality to accept. Chen didn't have the best first impression of Canada. Between the culture change and cold weather, Chen had several reasons to count the days until her return to Asia.
Her father humoured her.
"If you still want to come back when you graduate, I'll take you back," Chen recalls her father saying.
"I was like, 'Okay, see you in three years'," said Chen.
But like with most things in her life, Chen just needed time to get adjusted. In addition to feeling like she was too far behind the school curriculum in Asia, Canada also eventually became more than just her home; it was now a part of her identity. She still hopes to visit Taiwan and the results of an upcoming school exchange program may soon grant Chen her wish. But at the end of the day, Chen can't picture living anywhere else.
"I'm not taking away from being Taiwanese and being Chinese," said Chen. "But I feel very comfortable in where I sit in society and I feel Canadian."
With each passing year, Chen continues to unlock more of her skillset, personality, and identity. Her growing confidence is partly why she eventually gave badminton another chance.
The sport had to earn her trust and it didn't come easy. It got a helping hand from one of her friends at TMU. The two had met through TMU's Chinese Student Association. For nearly two months, he urged her to consider trying out for the Bold's varsity badminton team. His persistence soon paid off, even if Chen initially conceded to prove she wasn't the player that she used to be.
Even though Chen reluctantly agreed to show up and play, it didn't mean she was prepared.
"I had to go home and steal my mom's shoes and racket," said Chen.
However, the moment Chen stepped onto the TMU badminton court for the first time, something clicked. It could've been the combination of muscle memory and old feelings that bombarded Chen's nervous system. Or the fact that Chen's future teammates made her feel welcomed. Whatever it was, it felt right.
"I wasn't thinking that I need to get better again," said Chen.
In a lot of ways, it was liberating for Chen.
"I realized how fun it could be, even when there are so many people out there who are better than you," said Chen. "As long as I'm putting my best foot forward, I always have a great time."
While her first year with the Bold was more of a casual experience because of existing commitments, Chen has since taken a different approach. Hearing Chen talk about the team insinuates that she has discovered a healthy balance between competing and enjoying the sport.
Chen views badminton similarly to how her life has played out up to this point. The process and the progress that follow are just as important as the final result.
"I want to make sure every rally is worth it," said Chen. "Even if I lose, I want to make sure the opponent had a hard time winning the game."
Chen's refreshing approach to the sport has also benefited her team off the badminton court. As a self-labelled former introvert, Chen prides herself on leveraging prior experiences to help others feel welcome. That's particularly valuable on a team that's taken on a considerable amount of rookies this season.
As Chen lists off the various items that she has recently purchased for the team - with the most notable being a megaphone that her teammates can use during competitions, decorations for posters, and blue and gold facepaint - it becomes increasingly clear that she's no longer the unsure person who first attended badminton camps or TMU tryouts.
She's also a leader now.
"I hope it's a good vibe," said Chen. "I want the team to love the tournament as much as I do."
Time and again, Chen has demonstrated that she is keen to rewrite the rules for the things she values most in life. But on the day of the OUA National Championships, there's one belief that strictly governs how she plays badminton.
Leading into her match, she puts on her socks from left to right. Chen then uses a similar methodology with her shorts. It has to be her left leg that goes through first, followed by the right leg. It's a superstition that Chen picked up in the prior season, when her love for badminton truly re-ignited.
It makes sense why Chen has kept the routine. Taking things one step at a time has convinced Chen that she can tackle whatever life serves her next.
