When I first started private self-defense lessons, I wasn’t chasing confidence — I was running from fear. I wanted to know that if I were ever in danger, I wouldn’t freeze. I wanted to stop feeling small, stop replaying all the moments in life where I felt powerless. Those first few lessons were awkward and uncomfortable — my body stiff, my mind racing. But something inside me shifted each time I threw a punch, each time I learned to move instead of shrink back.
At first, it was about survival.
Now, it’s become about transformation.
Mixed Martial Arts (MMA) is far more than what I imagined. It isn’t just kicks, punches, or grappling. It’s a language — a conversation between breath, balance, and intention. The more I train, the more I realize that MMA is a form of mindfulness in motion.
Each strike begins and ends with the breath.
Each movement demands awareness — of my body’s position, my center of gravity, the space between me and my opponent. It’s not aggression that fuels it, but focus. It’s not chaos, but rhythm.
In class, we drill fundamentals — jabs, crosses, kicks, sprawls — but what I’m really learning is discipline. I’m learning how to stay calm under pressure, how to respond rather than react, how to ground myself in the present moment even when my heart is racing. The mats have become my meditation space.
Somewhere between the sweat and the repetition, I began to understand that MMA mirrors life. We’re all thrown off balance sometimes. We all take unexpected hits. But what matters most is learning how to recover — to breathe, adjust, and move forward again.
Training alongside others has also reshaped my understanding of strength. There’s a shared respect in the dojo — for effort, for vulnerability, for showing up even when it’s hard. Everyone remembers what it felt like to be new, to be afraid, to question their own power. But with time, the body starts to remember. You learn to trust yourself. You start to feel that strength doesn’t just live in your muscles — it’s born from your focus, your persistence, your breath.
Now, I still take private lessons, but I also step onto the mat for group MMA classes every week. What began as self-defense has become self-discovery. I’m not just learning how to protect myself — I’m learning how to be fully in myself.
The crow, for me, symbolizes this transformation. It’s the creature that moves between worlds — dark and light, sky and earth. Like the crow, I’m learning to hold both strength and softness, to fight when I must but also to find stillness amid the movement.
MMA taught me that empowerment isn’t about domination — it’s about awareness. It’s about breathing through fear, meeting challenge with presence, and finding grace in the fight.
Crow and Flame 