One White Belt’s Perspective, Revisited

Reflections on another year of training in Brazilian Jiu-jitsu

As I drafted this post on Friday, I was up at 5AM with a smile on my face — less for the fact that it was 5 in the morning and more for the fact that no matter what the day would bring, it was a happy anniversary worth celebrating. Friday marked two years since I attended the first class of the sport that changed my life. I attribute pretty much everything good that’s happened in my life in the last two years to the practice of BJJ and the people I’ve met while doing it.

In reviewing everything I’ve written about jiu-jitsu since I started doing it, I noticed that there’s no post I’ve written about BJJ that directly addresses a key reason I started. So before I go any further into what’s changed for me in the last year, I’ll offer up a new, significant piece missing from the narrative I’ve already shared of my BJJ experience.

“Something wonderful is going to happen”

Whenever people ask me, “Why did you get into jiu-jitsu?” there are a number of reasons. Sure, I was overworked and needed a hobby, and sure, I was looking for a lifetime sport and gym community that beat out the snobbish, impersonal yoga studio of which I was a member at the time. But the essential truth is simpler: it all started with a really bad breakup. It’s the truth, and anyone who was in my life between November 2016 and March 2017 knows how ugly it was. It’s old news at this point and otherwise not worth the writing space, save for the following story:

On the night of the breakup in November, before he promptly moved out of the place we lived together, my ex gave me a piece of ‘TJ Maxx basic white girl’ artwork. It had three pinkish upright feathers with gold calligraphy over them that said, “Always believe that something wonderful is going to happen,” which felt like a huge slap in the face at the time. There I was, completely blindsided and in the process of being broken up with, being told “something wonderful is going happen.” Please. That was the last thing I believed at the time and in the next four months of relationship-related unraveling.

But it happened to be true. I would not have walked into my gym were it not for that breakup and the fallout shitshow that accompanied it until the week I went to my first class at Broadway. Something wonderful was going to happen.*