I spent years of my life being a perfectionist. Slaving over my work and striving for achievements until I excelled. I was a straight A student, involved in multiple clubs and extra curricular activities, volunteered in my spare time and played on a variety of Varsity sports teams. I was on the Dean’s list, the honor roll, captain of teams and clubs, and an all around over achiever; I felt destined for greatness. You would think this set me up to thrive in adulthood, but alas, I fear this is the main source of my perpetual anxiety and self doubt. My soul is brimming with deprecation and feelings of inadequacy when I struggle to meet the ridiculous expectations I impose on myself. Everyone is always telling you in the Jiu Jitsu and MMA world to not compare yourself to others, that your journey is entirely your own. Okay that’s great and all, but I compete practically every weekend and I’m constantly put up against others to do battle until one person is victorious. So, while I do agree that my journey is different from someone else’s, I’m forced to come face to face with my inadequacies and weakness and confront the parts where I falter the most. Some days, I feel like my game has more holes than a slice of swiss cheese, and other days, I feel like I may be moderately and somewhat barely knowledgeable and almost okay. I strongly believe all kids should train Jiu Jiitsu, because we don’t get a participation trophy just for showing up. It is commendable and brave to compete, but at the end of the day, there is only room for one to reign victorious and the emotions that come with both victory and defeat help balance us to become more efficient and well rounded adults who can constantly adapt and benefit from both as we understand that we need to constantly push ourselves in order to learn and thrive.
I can’t tell you how many times I have left training recently feeling absolutely downtrodden. I have personally uttered the phrase ‘I suck’ more than Alexis Texas after a rough work week. More often than not, I feel like a punching bag and a practice dummy for the people at my gym who dwarf me in size and skill. Yet, the last sub only tournament I did, I walked away with 4 gold medals in 4 divisions and in the Vegas Open I took gold in no gi and bronze in the gi. I was utterly shocked (see title picture for reference), especially because all my wins were from submissions and some from techniques I have never tried before or others that I’ve attempted multiple times and failed at constantly and never thought the results would come to a successful fruition. Then I go into the gym to train and proceed to get smashed like a grape being turned into wine, though a lot less satisfying. I usually just chalk up my wins to having a good day while my opponent had a bad one, but then my coach tells me to believe in myself and all that other drivel. And if you think this lack of confidence and self esteem only applies to my fight game, then boy do I have news for you. Because every single day I’m out here faking it and just waiting on the day until some Scooby Doo gang rips my face off to see I’m an anxiety riddled mess masquerading around as a well composed adult this whole time.
I literally second guess myself on everything I do. How can I coach people and tell them to believe in themselves when I have about as much faith in me as an atheist? In the office, in the gym, at home; I am always wondering if what I do is the right thing. Was I too hard on the kids? Was I too lenient? Should I have worded that work email differently? Will I make my quota? Should I reach for their arm here? Etc. The more I think about these things, the more I cause myself some undue stress and all of the lovely complications that coexist alongside it. I’m telling you, I must be the #1 consumer of ginger ale to help settle my forever queasy and knotted up stomach. And it’s all because of what I do to myself. Holding onto these negative thoughts and feelings causes me to worry, which in turns freaks me out so badly that these anxious thoughts and energy manifest themselves into physical symptoms where I need a constant supply of Pepto Bismol and acne cream. When I was on vacation the other week, I felt the best I had in probably about a year. I was doing what I loved spending time with who I love all while training, competing, and relaxing poolside with some margaritas. My skin was glowing, I was radiating positive energy, I slept like a baby, and pretty much exuberated happiness from every pore. One day back in the real world and I was dry heaving over a toilet for most of the day while my face broke out in more bumps than an abandoned roadway. People who don’t suffer from anxiety shrug it off and tell me to just not think about things. Alright there buckaroo, if it was as simple as just turning my brain off don’t you think this problem would have been squelched before it felt like some demon was doing cartwheels in my stomach?
I hate self doubt. I hate feeling unsure of myself or like I’m not good enough. I hate that no one talks about these feelings and it’s so taboo. It’s okay to feel stressed out and it’s okay to feel overwhelmed. It affects far more people than we could ever realize. What’s not okay is to stop living our best life because of these feelings. I spend more time than I care to admit hyperventilating over trying to suppress tears from suffocating pressure I put on myself, but every day I am looking up and experimenting with methods to help cope. Essential oils, meditation, yoga, deep breathing exercises, ginger ale etc. Unfortunately, there is no quick fix. The best thing that works for me is throwing on some gloves and trying to eviscerate the face of someone else. Just gotta channel my 80’s Michael Jackson and beat it. In the real world, I can’t just get out of my office chair and throttle the neck of someone when I’m feeling a bit stressed out, but man wouldn’t that be swell. The thing is, my life is pretty great. Stable job, amazing family, a lovely home, food to eat, and a great gym where I pursue my passion. So on top of the anxiety I feel, I also suffer from immeasurable amounts of guilt for feeling like this when I know others would kill to be in my shoes. I have no right to feel the way I do, and yet it is a consequence of my emotions regardless. But if someone else were in my situation, I would tell them that they have absolutely every right to feel any emotion they do and no one should make them feel badly for processing things differently than someone else. I can apparently dole out some handy advice, but am abysmal at taking my own words of wisdom to heart.
I don’t think I will ever be truly satisfied with my performance in and out of the cage, but I am slowly learning to be proud of progress. Even after a bad day on the mats, I’m learning to applaud myself for the little things like showing up after being obliterated one day or not giving up when life (and opponents) backs me into a corner. Part of it is because I want to be exemplary for the kids in my life and hope when they see me, it is as a vision of someone who was relentless in the face of adversity and never relinquished to their inner turmoil, but fought to overcome it every day. The other part is for myself, because as selfish as that sounds, I don’t want to disappoint the little voice in my head that believes I can do anything if I keep working at it. I believe in competition because I think it helps all of us deal with the difficulties associated in stepping out of our comfort zone and really pushing our mind and body to it’s full capabilities and potential. I also believe in being kind to ourselves and allowing our mental health to have some love.
Many of you reading this were probably surprised at these admittances of self doubt. If you follow me on social media platforms like Facebook and Instagram, you see a strong woman trying to conquer the world while radiating confidence. What you don’t see is the scared little girl trying to hype herself up with positive affirmations while fighting back tears (and vomit) before any daunting task. (By the way, if you think I’m exaggerating in the slightest, we ran into Donald Cerrone in Vegas and I became a bumbling idiot only uttering the phrase ‘I love him’ over and over while he stood there completely flummoxed and probably wondering how this moron taught herself how to breathe, so yeah, I handle nerves with grace and dignity.) Some might take solace reading this and henceforth not feeling alone, while I know plenty of others out there will survey this and laugh because they will view it as weak and they want to see me fail. I will never bequeath them that satisfaction of admitting to mental defeat. I do not view these thoughts as weak, but I feel brave for sharing them in hopes it helps pacify the intrusive anxiety in someone else. I admire anyone struggling to get out of bed in the morning the willpower to trudge right on through the day. You are braver than you know and stronger than you think and capable of so much more than you give yourself credit for. Courage is not the absence of fear, but doing something in spite of it. Just breathe.