Okay, so I’ve been messing around with this Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu stuff for a while now, and I finally got my black belt. It’s been a wild ride, let me tell you. I started out like everyone else, completely clueless, getting tossed around like a rag doll. But I stuck with it, kept showing up, kept getting my butt kicked.
First thing I did was find a gym. I checked out a few places, talked to the instructors, watched some classes. You gotta find a place where you feel comfortable, you know? Where the people are cool and the vibe is right. Once I found the right spot, I signed up and got myself a gi. Man, those first few weeks were rough. I didn’t know a thing. I was constantly getting tapped out, feeling frustrated. But I kept at it. I learned the basic moves, the positions, how to defend myself.
Then came the drills. We drilled those moves over and over and over again. It was tedious, but it was important. We practiced moving from one position to another, escaping from bad spots, setting up submissions. My body ached, my gi was soaked in sweat, but I was getting better. I started to see improvement. I was able to hang with the higher belts a little longer. I was even starting to tap out some of the other white belts. This whole process, it’s not just about the physical stuff. It messes with your head, too. There were times I wanted to quit. I felt like I wasn’t making progress, like I was just spinning my wheels. But I pushed through those doubts. I kept showing up, kept training, kept learning.
Sparring, or “rolling” as we call it, that’s where things really started to click. It’s like a live puzzle, trying to figure out what your opponent is going to do, trying to stay one step ahead. I got smashed a lot in the beginning. I mean, A LOT. But slowly, I started to figure things out. I learned how to use my weight, how to control my opponent, how to set up my attacks.
I remember one time, I was rolling with this purple belt, a real tough guy. He was all over me, I was just trying to survive. But then, I saw an opening. I swept him, got on top, and somehow, I managed to lock in a choke. He tapped! I couldn’t believe it. That was a big moment for me. It showed me that all those hours of drilling, all those times getting smashed, it was all paying off.
Then it came time to move up the ranks. You get stripes on your belt to mark your progress. And then, eventually, you get tested for your next belt color. Each test was nerve-wracking. You have to demonstrate the techniques you’ve learned, show that you understand the concepts. I remember my blue belt test especially. I was so nervous, I thought I was going to puke. But I did it. I passed.
The belt promotions kept coming. Blue, purple, brown. Each one was a milestone. Each one meant more responsibility, higher expectations. And then, finally, after years of blood, sweat, and tears, I got my black belt. It wasn’t easy, man. I had to earn it. But holding that black belt in my hands, it made it all worth it.
But you know what? Getting the black belt, it’s not the end. It’s just the beginning. Now I’m one of the guys that the new guys look up to. I have a responsibility to help them, to share my knowledge, to keep learning and growing myself. One thing I’ve learned though, is to never use your skills for anything but defense. It’s a powerful tool, and I respect that. There was this one time where I used the fence to defend, leaning against the cage and spreading my legs wide. I was hand-fighting from this position. It is not about fighting it is about learning.
This whole journey, it’s changed me, not just as a martial artist, but as a person. It’s taught me discipline, perseverance, humility. It’s shown me that I’m capable of more than I ever thought possible. And it’s given me a community, a family. It’s a good feeling, man. A really good feeling.
