Strike one: I’m a woman. Strike two: I am small. Strike three: I picked the most physically demanding sport possible. Truth is, I always wanted to fight. I’ve dreamed about it for a long time. At the age of 14, I was gifted my very first iPod and created my Apple ID. The security question that was asked was “What is your dream job.” My answer was an MMA fighter. That was 13 years ago! Now, I’m 27 and living my dream. It’s an indescribable feeling to have that dream come to fruition, and what makes it an even more surreal experience, is the amount of blood, sweat, and tears that went into pursuing this goal. Every opportunity I get to be able to fight makes me feel like the luckiest person alive, and no matter how hard it gets, I will never take this blessing for granted. This journey has been a long, arduous, and difficult one, but there is nothing I would change about it.
I was just talking to some of my teammates at the 6 am class this morning about the difficulties you face when you are just starting out; how it feels demoralizing to be submitted time and time again. Back in my no-stripe white belt days, I was one of just a few girls at the gym, I was so small and inexperienced that I confessed I felt like I was wasting people’s time when they were paired up to roll with me. I had zero knowledge of BJJ and I was so little that I couldn’t even muscle through anything that was taught. For a long time I was the smallest, the weakest, the only female, and the newest to the sport. This ended up being a blessing in disguise because I had to learn and develop technique more quickly since brute strength wasn’t something I could rely on to help me fend off attacks or survive submissions. Day after day I would get my ass kicked. And day after day I would keep showing up. Morning and night, 7 days a week, open mats and instructional classes, I would persevere, even simultaneously lifting weights at the gym with a trainer in hopes of putting on some muscle mass to gain functional strength. In my mind, I’m a 300 lb beast reminiscent of Conan the Barbarian. In actuality, I’m barely topping 100 lbs on the scale and resemble more of a waif than a warrior with about as much strength as a limp noodle, but hey, what can you do?
When you’re a white belt, it feels like nothing you do is substantial. It takes forever to become accustomed to the intricate movements required in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. When you finally nail the general concept for a particular position, someone shows you a minute detail that without having that knowledge specificity, you can’t properly execute the technique. You think you’re doing something correctly only to be countered by someone else with seemingly little to no effort, or to be caught mid-transition and reversed, or for you to fail at execution. BJJ is such a hard martial art to master and finesse to your particular skillset and capabilities. Today, I am a one-stripe purple belt and I will still have moments where I feel like I know absolutely nothing; especially when grappling my black belt professor. It can be frustrating at times, but I know in the long run it will only make me a better and mentally stronger athlete. To the outside observer, they may only ever see me as a small adult having tiny, baby Trump-like hands, but you better believe these little T-rex arms can choke out someone twice my size and throw some painful punches. It is a marathon, not a sprint and my journey is my own. What works for you may not work for someone else, and it’s perfectly okay to develop your own style and game plan at your own pace. Surround yourselves with a positive support system and the outcomes are limitless.
I want to talk about one of the most disheartening things that can happen as a woman in this sport. There are times when we grapple guys who are much newer than us and nowhere near as technical, but yet, they can end up dominating us during a roll due to sheer size, strength, and athleticism. It’s a hard pill to swallow knowing you are losing a roll by being out-muscled rather than by technique and it is almost always a lower belt male guilty of doing this. This is particularly upsetting when you are a newly promoted blue belt and you think you may finally start to know some BJJ skills only to get caught in a kimura by a one-stripe white belt because they pinned you to the mat with their girth. They might as well start calling you John Snow as it feels like you know nothing. Do you know what it’s like to feel like you’re suffocating to death when someone smothers you in such a way you feel like you’re asphyxiating beneath their copious amounts of skin? You better grow some gills and learn to relax and breathe through your eyeballs or you could hyperventilate yourself into a panic. I will admit that this really used to get to me. I felt like no matter how much I kept climbing, I would take 1 step forward and 2 steps back. Did this guy know I was better than them and they were only beating me because I’m a 115 lb woman with less musculature density? Or did they revel in the fact that they could dominate someone higher ranked than they, regardless of the 70 lb variation in weight and anatomical differences in bone structure and strength? I felt so unworthy of my blue belt at the time and felt like I was disgracing the sport. Blue belt blues are crushing to the ego. It took me years to learn to be okay with it. There should never be an ego while training and the sooner we learn to let those feelings of hostility go, the better off we will be. Those thoughts of negativity hurt no one but myself and caused unnecessary feelings of inadequacy. I’m finally at the level where I will roll with anyone any time and be able to give the business to the newer folk who think strength is everything, and if I struggle with some size differences, I just figuratively and literally roll with the punches. It’s not worth stressing over. There will always be someone bigger, someone stronger, and someone better. All I can do is keep showing up and learning and imparting that knowledge on to others. I am lucky enough to be a part of a gym where I get nothing but respect from students and instructors alike and because of every single person there, I get better physically and mentally day by day.
Some things we can not change. I will almost always be the smallest, but I promise I will also be one of the most eager learners. I want to soak up as much knowledge as I am able to. I’ve learned to make myself feel as heavy as I possibly can and how to move in a fluid way most beneficial to my body type. I will never demand any respect, but I do plan on earning it, even if it takes me twice as long as the other instructors, I know I will get there, little man Jiu Jitsu and all. Facing such struggles in size has only led me to do that much better in competition. While I may get punched hard in the middle of a cage fight, I can promise you no girl in my weight class will hit half as hard as the ridiculously large male fists that help rearrange my face. If I can handle the onslaught of punches from a gargantuan, I can withstand the barrage of blows during an MMA fight. The more we sweat in practice, the less we bleed in battle. What I lack in power I will make up tenfold in effort. Each of us must face different challenges in the sport. It’s not how many times we get knocked down, it’s about how many times we get back up. So, while some people may look at me and see a puny Chihuahua, I stare in the mirror and see a fierce and intimidating goddess. It’s not the strength of the body that counts, but rather the strength of the spirit, and when it comes to spirit I am the Hercules of my domain.
When you can’t reach while reffing
Actual sized Dum Dum with small hands for scale 😉
Finally tall enough to ride the rides
