Like most three-year-old little girls, I was put in ballet and tap classes. My dreams of being a dancer were quickly shattered because I couldn't stand the sound of the tap shoes just tap, tap taping away on the floor. In all honesty, I used to plug my ears. I literally hated it. After the big Bunny Hop recital, I retired my cute little bushy tail and begged my parents to take me to the local karate studio and sign me up. I wanted to do karate.
I'm sure my parents were stunned as their three-year-old daughter, who had never seen anything karate-related before, stood before them begging to be signed up for karate. But that is just what they did. Within a few weeks time I had my uniform and I was ready to go.
In such a short time, karate became my obsession. Once I reached the age where I could take classes that were open to anyone who trained, I was training six days a week. Some nights I would take two classes. I just couldn't get enough. My training was well paid off. By the ripe age of seven, I earned my black-belt. Soon after that, at the age of nine, I became a second degree black-belt. These accomplishments are so rare and some of my most cherished accomplishments even to this day.
When I was young and naive it was so easy to fall in love with the sport, the competitions, the winning and the glory. Now, looking back on my years I spent training, I think I fell in love with it for reasons a six-year-old doesn't know how to explain.
Training always gave me a sense of empowerment. Whether I had a great night training or out performed a bunch of teenage boys as a nine year old at a competition, I always felt a sense of power, but never in a conceited way. It also taught me dedication as well as determination. The fact that I was utterly obsessed with being the best martial artist I could be only helped me. I spent hours upon hours practicing forms in my mirror and in front of my parents. I craved perfection when it came to martial arts and I wouldn't settle for anything less.
Due to my perfectionist ways, I gained a lot of self confidence. To perform in front of hundreds of people, to be the only girl and the only person under the age of 12 competing for a trophy (and win most of the time) and to teach your knowledge to other, newer students took a lot of confidence. None of that is possible without confidence.
Any person could walk into any martial arts studio and earn a black-belt. But not every person is lucky enough to say that they have learned the lessons that I have. I owe all of these lessons to my instructor. In elementary school when every kid is assigned to write about their hero, most kids write about their mom or dad. I wrote about my karate instructor. She was and always will be my hero. Without her, I wouldn't be the woman that I am today. Her strong willed yet gentle and patient way of teaching made every moment enjoyable.
To say my training, the lessons and the amazing people I have befriended along the way resonates deeply in my heart and soul is an understatement. As I grew older and began to look back on it, a lot of the more broad concepts had meanings to me. I understand so much more now, than I did then. My training is something I carry with me always. A lot of the time I wish I never had to stop; but I always know the art of Tang Soo Do and the blue and red mats will always be there to welcome me home. And one day that's exactly where I plan on going.
