The Little Black Belt

Part 1: Breaking the Stereotypes

I’m not the kind of person you would expect to have a black belt. I’ve always been small for my age, and I don’t look very intimidating. When I tell people that I’m a black belt, they are usually shocked, and they have a hard time picturing me like that.

Martial arts were something that came as a bit of a surprise to me. Growing up, I was the kind of girl who would wear a frilly dress to the grocery store. I was always walking around the house in my plastic princess “high heels” with my princess wands and tiaras. I had more princess dresses than I knew what to do with. I was so girly that I didn’t want to associate myself with anything that I thought boys would do. I remember being abhorred when my dad asked me if I wanted to wear a hat backwards with him and my brothers. I emphatically shook my head “no” and said,

“No, Daddy, only boys do that!”

As I grew up, I grew out of the princess phase a little bit, but as I got older my shyness grew. I thought of myself as a weak little girl who didn’t have any business getting into martial arts. I remember having the opportunity suggested to me once or twice, but I never felt a desire to pursue it. Martial arts were something for tough people, and I certainly did not fit that description.

The other reason I resisted martial arts was because I was never good at anything athletic. I had tried to find an interest in sports, but I wasn’t coordinated or fit enough to even think about trying. If I did get brave and try, I would mess up and so I would become frustrated and quit.

One day, I was offered an opportunity to do a taekwondo for a month with my brothers, free of charge. I turned it down because I wasn’t strong or fit or tough enough to even try. Taekwondo just wasn’t my thing. I was about to find out how wrong I was.