Pink Wax & Persistence: How Mya Daniels Found Her Confidence in the Waves

PART LOCAL BREAK'S "YOU MIGHT HAVE SEEN 'EM" SERIES

Mya riding in Encinitas, CA on a classic sunny winter day in SoCall]

If you see a flash of neon pink trimming down the face of a wave in North County, there’s a good chance it’s Mya Daniels.

Thirteen years old, outspoken and quick to smile, Mya is known in the lineup as much for her kindness as for her surfing. She talks to everyone — in the water and on the sand. She cheers for other people’s waves. She says thank you. She makes space.

What most people don’t immediately see is how much courage it took for her to even paddle out.

Mya, known for always smiling - Encinitas, CA

Learning to Love What Once Scared Her

Mya didn’t grow up fearless of the ocean. In fact, she was scared of it.

A childhood memory of a friend being stung by a jellyfish stayed with her. The water felt unpredictable. Powerful. Bigger than she was ready for.

Mya's first surfboard purchased at a thrift store in Escondido, CA

But when her dad and sister started surfing, something shifted. She watched them come home glowing — sunburned, sandy, full of stories. She saw the bond forming between them. And being competitive with her sister, she decided she wanted in.

Her family didn’t come from a surf background. They learned together — mostly through YouTube, trial and error, and plenty of long walks back up the beach. There were wipeouts that left her “scorpion rolling” in the shorebreak and early attempts at catching waves that felt more chaotic than graceful.

Mya with sisters and her Mom after a afternoon surf sesh

The first time she paddled into a real lineup, she was nervous. The ocean still felt intimidating.

But she kept going back.

Slowly, fear began to shift into respect. She realized that even the best surfers are humbled by the ocean. That its power isn’t something you conquer — it’s something you learn to move with.

The Wave That Made It Real

Everything changed one evening at the campground at San Elijo.

Her dad surprised her with a 6'8" funboard — a major moment for their family. They weren’t overflowing with extra money, and buying a new board meant sacrifices. Fewer dinners out. Skipping little luxuries. Passing on things most families might not think twice about.

Photo by: Chris Jones - Mya's first unbroken wave - the one that got her hooked

Her mom was fully behind it.

Even when it wasn’t in the budget, she supported the decision. If Mya was committed, they would find a way. As a family, they chose her progression.

That night, under a glowing sunset, Mya paddled into her first unbroken left. The wave turned bright green beneath her feet. Time slowed. The noise disappeared.

At that moment, she understood what people meant when they talked about surfing.

She was hooked.

When Fear Came Back

But surfing has a way of testing you.

At the Oceanside Harbor, Mya was caught inside on a heavy set. She was severely pummeled — held down, tumbled, shaken. In the chaos of the wipeout, her dad’s board — the one she had asked to borrow — struck her, and a fin sliced deep into her inner thigh.

The laceration was serious. It took time to heal. The board needed repairs. The fin that gouged her leg was gone.

And in one violent moment, everything she had worked so hard to overcome came rushing back.

The fear. The anxiety. The feeling of being small again.

Mya and her Dad after a session at the family's favorite break in Mexico

She had gone from feeling like a conqueror — a girl beginning to trust herself in bigger waves — to feeling conquered in a flash. Back to square one.

After that, she quit surfing four separate times. Each time, anxiety built in her chest at the thought of paddling out. Each time, she stayed away for a month or two, unsure if she could face it again.

And each time, her dad gently brought her back.

When she felt stuck inside, instead of paddling past the break, he went back inside and stayed beside her. When panic rose, he helped her breathe and they took the hold downs together. He would speak to her in between the chaos, reminding her of the green wave at sunset — of why she fell in love with it in the first place.

Behind the scenes was her mom’s steady strength. The quiet encouragement. The sacrifices. The unwavering belief that this was worth pushing through.

Surfing wasn’t just Mya’s challenge anymore. It was a family commitment.

Little by little, session by session, she rebuilt her confidence — not because the fear disappeared, but because she learned she could move through it.

Finding Her Rhythm

Today, Mya rides a 5'10" Sharpeye Inferno 72 — her favorite board she has ever owned. It’s the one she reaches for in nearly all conditions. The one she trusts.

But that board carries a story of its own.

It was a board her family simply couldn’t afford at the time. After everything they had already sacrificed — the dinners out, the extras, the constant prioritizing of her progression — it just wasn’t realistic.

Her grandma, who she lovingly calls “Mema,” could see how much surfing meant to her. She saw the early mornings. The setbacks. The way Mya kept paddling back out even after fear tried to take hold.

So Mema took her to the surf shop.

And surprised her.

She bought her the board Mya had been dreaming about.

That 5'10" Sharpeye Inferno 72 became more than fiberglass and foam. It became belief. Another person in her corner. Another reminder that her family saw something in her worth investing in.

And she rides it that way.

Mya hugging her "Mema" after she surprised her with the surf board she could never afford on her own

Surfing has transformed her confidence. In bigger waves, you don’t have time to second-guess. You decide. You commit. You go.

That lesson followed her beyond the water.

When her family lived in Mexico for nearly a year, surfing once — sometimes twice — a day accelerated everything. Catching more waves sharpened her instincts and deepened her connection to the ocean. What once felt terrifying began to feel grounding.

Mya surfing Boneyard on a solid day - if you know then you know

She still respects its power. She still admits she’s wary of stingrays. But the fear that once kept her on shore no longer defines her.

Now, when she paddles out on that board — the one Mema helped put under her feet — she carries something bigger than performance.

She carries belief.

A Presence in the Lineup

If you ask around, people won’t just mention her surfing. They’ll mention her energy.

She’s the girl with the bright colored wax — usually neon pink, impossible to miss — and the one who smiles in the lineup. She talks to everyone. Encourages strangers. Thanks people for waves — even when it was her turn to drop.

But there was a day when the lineup gave something back to her.

It was solid. Heavy. Bigger than what she was used to — and nearly twice the size of the wave at Oceanside two years earlier that had crushed her love for the ocean.

She was in position, but so was another surfer. He looked at her. Smiled. Made eye contact.

“It’s yours.”

In that split second, everything rushed through her mind.

The wipeout.

The laceration. 

The fear.

The long road back.

It felt like that first glowing green wave all over again — only this time the consequences were higher.

Would it be the same result?

From the moment he pulled back, the choice was hers. Doubt could make her hesitate. Fear could make her fade. Or she could take the opportunity and prove to herself that she could do this.

She went.

A late drop. Committed.

The lineup turned to watch.

She wasn’t thinking about them. She was building speed down the line, setting up for her backside turn. When she hit it, water exploded, and she drove through the section clean.

When she kicked out and paddled back toward the lineup, she heard it.

Cheers.

But it wasn’t just her dad this time.

It was the lineup.

Her fellow surfers.

The biggest and longest wave she had ever ridden had just become something more. It wasn’t only about making the drop. It wasn’t only about size.

That wave gave her something surfers quietly chase for years — respect in the lineup. Respect for the kind of waves she had only watched in videos online. And most importantly, respect for herself.

That moment carried her to the next level of her surfing journey.

More Than a Sport

Surfing defines who she is. It gives her perspective. When she’s in the water, everything else quiets down.

She’s grateful — for her dad who stayed beside her when fear tried to win, for her mom who sacrificed behind the scenes, and for her sister who helped spark it all.

Her goals include competing for fun, traveling internationally to surf, and continuing to refine her craft. But more than anything, she wants to keep progressing — not just as a surfer, but as a person, staying grounded and active in her volunteer work.

Her advice to other girls who feel nervous about trying?

“Learn with a friend. Just do it. Push past the first year. After your first real wave, you’ll understand. It might mold your life forever.”

For Mya Daniels, it already has.

And if you look out at the lineup on the right day, you’ll see it — a streak of pink carving across the face of a wave, powered by resilience, family sacrifice, and a girl who chose to paddle back out.

Instagram: mya.love_for_surf