Belmont’s Maya Johnson Overcame Lupus to Dominate Postseason Play

Behind Maya Johnson's story of perseverance on and off the diamond See why ace Maya Johnson has remained loyal to Belmont all while coping with a chronic autoimmune disease. (7:31)

IT'S APRIL, IN the closing stretch of the regular season for the Belmont softball team, and Maya Johnson is striding toward the dugout, her cleats crunching along the rust-colored, gravel warning track lining the perimeter of the field. As the rest of the team begins Thursday morning practice, she approaches the Bruins' pitching corps, gathered near first base.

"Strut, Maya," pitching coach Emlyn Knerem jokes. Johnson bashfully raises a hand to stop the teasing. "You do strut when you're out there," Knerem says, throwing a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the pitcher's mound.

"I do strut when I'm out there," Johnson concedes, "because I want everyone to know I'm the boss."

And it's a title she has earned. Over the past two seasons, Johnson has established herself as one of the best pitchers in college softball. With an unbeatable .66 earned run average and 381 strikeouts, the Bruins' redshirt senior sits atop the NCAA in nearly every pitching category.

In April, Johnson made an unexpected appearance in the Bruins' 11-10 slugfest against local rival, Lipscomb University. As the runs multiplied, she started asking head coach Laura Matthews to put her on the mound, knowing she could clinch the late-season win.

"If it's me versus the batter, I'm taking myself any day," Johnson said.

In the top of the seventh, Belmont secured a one-run lead. Matthews agreed to let Johnson close, on one condition: no throwing at practice the next day. Johnson agreed, then struck out the next three Bison batters for the win.

This morning, Johnson has remained true to her word. As the Bruins' fielders execute a fast-paced defensive drill, pitcher and coach watch from the first-base line. Both understand that for Johnson, rest is often more valuable than reps.

At age 15, Johnson was diagnosed with lupus, a chronic condition in which the body's immune system mistakenly attacks its own healthy cells. Lupus manifests in each person differently, resulting in a wide range of symptoms. If left untreated, it can begin to break down nearly any body system, causing permanent organ failure and other life-threatening effects. Medications such as immunosuppressants help prevent this process. But for many with lupus, like Johnson, additional medications are needed to keep the body from overcorrecting. Achieving equilibrium is key to living with the disease.

After years of trial and error with various treatments, Johnson had finally found a balance that kept her lupus symptoms at bay. Then, the unpredictable disease dealt her her most difficult challenge yet, threatening her future on the field. But she has always believed in her ability to beat any opponent.

JOHNSON SITS, LEGS extended, on a padded table in the Bruins' training room. The softball team's athletic trainer, Brie Ashauer, guides an ultrasound probe around Johnson's left shoulder as electrical stimulation pads send pulses to her muscles. Together, the treatments aid in recovery.

"I get more sore from lift and practice than I think other people do," Johnson explains.

Lupus slows the body's healing processes, so Ashauer must conduct treatments at lower settings, and with higher frequency, to ensure Johnson is fit to play. In addition to taking medications, Johnson also wears a continuous glucose monitor to track her blood sugar levels.

Today, Johnson has symptom management down to a science. But before her diagnosis, she struggled against the effects of the disease.

Johnson was in seventh grade when she began feeling overwhelmed by exhaustion. Since beginning mixed martial arts at age 6, and softball at 9, she had become accustomed to the demands of life as an athlete. This feeling, though, was different. Sometimes, she'd sleep up to 16 hours a day. Most of her lab work would come back with the slightest abnormalities, discouraging doctors from offering any formal diagnoses.

But by freshman year of high school, Johnson's health had gotten worse. Her joints were swollen, and it hurt to walk. She tried to keep up with softball training, but would often miss practices and games to rest.

Her parents thought she might be depressed. Others wrote off her aches as evidence of anxiety.

"I genuinely felt crazy," Johnson said. "I was like, 'I have all these symptoms. I'm exhausted all the time. I'm not being believed something's wrong.'"

She began to doubt herself. Am I making this stuff up? Are these symptoms in my head?

For three years, Johnson visited various specialists, but none could put a name to her condition. In the fall of 2018, she met with a rheumatologist for yet another opinion. A few days later, she was diagnosed with lupus.

"No one wants a life-altering diagnosis, or a lifelong diagnosis," Johnson said. "But it was really, honestly, relieving to finally put a name to what I was experiencing, because it's like, 'Okay, we have a foundation. Where do we go from here?'"

Now, the doctors had answers. Johnson began experimenting with different medications to find the right mix for her symptoms. For about a year, the treatment regimen righted her immune system, reducing her exhaustion and aches to allow her to get back on the mound. That summer, she helped her travel team to a national runner-up finish.

In December of her junior year, however, she experienced a lupus flare-up, when the disease is triggered back into action by stress, infection or exhaustion. This time, it manifested neurologically, causing confusion, grogginess and headaches. Johnson spent nearly two weeks in the hospital before doctors could bring her lupus back to its baseline. But by softball season, she was ready to compete and led her high school team to its first district championship final in program history.

"There were times where it was like, 'Okay, let's pause for a week or two and adjust this, and then you can go back,'" Johnson said of conversations with her physicians. "But it was never, 'You should quit softball altogether.'"

Quitting, for Johnson, was unthinkable.

WHEN THE CLOCK hit midnight on August 31, 2019, Johnson received a flood of texts and emails. It was the beginning of her junior year of high school, and college coaches could now officially begin recruiting her.

"I never hid my lupus in the recruiting process," she said. "It wasn't a secret."

A year later, Johnson committed to the University of Pittsburgh, about 100 miles southeast of the Cleveland-area home in which she was raised. Shortly after, she shared her medical records with team physicians. But that fall, the day before she moved to campus, she received a phone call from the Panthers' head coach. Johnson said she was told the team wasn't comfortable clearing her to practice before she had been evaluated by Pittsburgh's specialists. So, she got to work scheduling appointments.

Johnson said she received clearance letters from a pulmonologist, an allergist and a rheumatologist at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center. She brought these -- in addition to the approvals she had already acquired from doctors back home -- to the Panthers' team physician.

"She looked me dead in the eyes, she said, 'That's great, but they don't know what it's like to be a Division I athlete. I'm still not going to clear you,'" Johnson said.

Johnson didn't practice with the Panthers that fall. Over winter break, she trained independently, feeling optimistic about rejoining the team in January.

The physician's outlook, however, hadn't changed. Johnson said she was told she'd likely never be cleared to play. Instead, she could medically disqualify herself from competing in NCAA softball while retaining her scholarship.

"I was like, 'No, I'm not letting you end my career before it starts. I'm leaving,'" Johnson said.

Johnson medically redshirted the 2022 season and entered the transfer portal. She reached out to coaches who had previously recruited her, hoping existing relationships could make up for her lack of stats. Johnson said she received about 20 offers. Each was revoked after a review of her medical records.

"I never had the self-doubt. But to have factors outside of my control [keep me from playing], fully knowing I'm capable, was a really, really dark place to be in," she said. "I was really depressed my second semester at Pitt. And even while I was depressed, I knew I was going to find a way."

LAURA MATTHEWS WAS leading the softball program at Wright State University when she first learned of a young pitcher named Maya Johnson.

"Bean pole, little skinny thing," Matthews remembers. "She could spin it, and threw pretty hard."

Matthews kept tabs on Johnson's potential as the pitcher attended Wright State training camps throughout high school. The coach was one of many who extended an offer to Johnson her junior year. By the time Johnson entered the portal in 2022, Matthews had just finished her second season at Belmont. She offered for the ace again, but Johnson told her the eight-hour drive to Nashville would take her too far from home.

Instead, Johnson committed to the team at Bowling Green State University, which had agreed to clear her for competition. But two weeks later, the coach who recruited her left the program for an opportunity at Bradley University. Johnson had hoped to follow, but was once again denied approval to play. She returned to the portal, determined to find a fit.

Matthews, too, was undeterred. She reached out to Johnson a third time, unaware that other programs were turning the pitcher away because of her health. Rather, after learning how Johnson had been managing her lupus over the past several years, Matthews was even more convinced she wanted her on her team.

"This kid's smart and she's got it together," Matthews remembered thinking. "She's never failed at anything before. Why would she fail at this now?"

Matthews advocated for Johnson in conversations with Belmont physicians and healthcare partners. The group ultimately granted its approval. This time, when Matthews invited Johnson to join the team, she said yes.

As a redshirt freshman, Johnson dedicated herself to discrediting her doubters. The following season, she had a 1.49 earned run average. As a redshirt junior, she recorded 366 strikeouts, including 11 shutouts, making her one of few mid-major players to earn All-America honors.

The friction of repeated rejection had honed Johnson into a keen threat.

"If I believe in myself, the people around me believe in me, and it's reflected on the field," she said. "Why shouldn't you be scared of me?"

IN MAY 2025 , under the central Iowa sun, Johnson rushed off the mound and into an embrace with catcher Brenna Blume. She had just thrown her 355th strikeout of the season to clinch the Missouri Valley conference championship title for the Bruins. The win earned them an automatic bid to the NCAA tournament, the first in program history.

But Belmont fell twice to Virginia Tech in the double-elimination regional round. And a few days later, the Bruins' losses compounded when Johnson entered the transfer portal.

Johnson has always had an interest in life sciences. She developed a passion for nursing after her own healthcare providers supported her through some of her most challenging moments. After earning her bachelor's in nursing, Johnson planned to spend her final season of eligibility at Belmont pursuing graduate studies. But when she found out the school's master's in nursing degree had transitioned into a doctoral program, she knew she wouldn't be able to make it work. She decided to leave Belmont for a better academic match.

"I know I talk about hard things a lot," she said, "but telling people you love that you're not coming back is really hard."

Her second transfer portal experience, however, came easier. She said she heard from more than 100 schools

_Originally reported by [ESPN](https://www.espn.com/college-sports/story/_/id/48740541/belmont-softball-maya-johnson-lupus)._