Fighting to Find Me
There was a time when I’d never get too deep. I’d stay on the surface where I thought I could remain safe. Maintaining appearances was hard work. Then there was that mask, the one I wore when I wanted to keep everyone happy. No one knew just how heavy that mask was to wear. And yet I donned the mask as if it were my best accessory. That was, until, I put on a white belt.
I’ve heard people say, ”Jiu-Jitsu saved my life”. While I don’t personally believe Jiu-Jitsu saved me, I do believe Jiu-Jitsu is the key that helped me unlock the ironclad mask that had been causing me to drown in my pretense. Jiu Jitsu gave me something to focus on without feeling overwhelmed. Each class there was a brand new technique. I realized while I was focused on technique, I was not focused on wearing my mask of perfection. While training I didn't have the relentless pressure of people-pleasing. Little by little, Jiu-Jitsu stripped me of the fake. The more I trained the less I cared about keeping my mask straight. Before I’d even realized it that heavy mask had fallen off. Leaving me almost unrecognizable to most of the people in my life. Yet for the first time, I finally recognized me.
Ten months into training I decided to compete. I'll never forget the whirlwind of nerves and emotions. During that time I was in a controlling relationship and I only wore my mask at home. On the mats, I could be me. I could make mistakes without being put down, shamed, or berated. There were no eggshells on the mat. It became my place of encouragement and peace. Finally, I could express myself without fear. I had never experienced such freedom. Freedom to fail, fall apart, and learn from my mistakes in a very physical way. On the mats, I learned to see the beauty in failure. Through Jiu-Jitsu I’ve learned to seek the unique beauty in my mistakes, and the revelation that I am the one in control of changing them.
That first competition was terrible. I gripped up and stood there holding my breath yanking on the poor girl's collar & pigtail braid until I almost passed out. By my second match, I was able to remember to breathe. I walked away with a silver and a plethora of lessons. What I remember most was that I walked away just a little stronger, and a tad more confident. Now 4 years and 18 competitions later I am a completely different person. I’ve lost a lot, but I’ve gained self-love & respect that I never thought possible. I am nowhere near where I want to be on this journey, but I can say I have a clear direction and I am beyond proud of the changes I've made. I can’t wait to meet me again in another four years. Until then I'll keep fighting for me.