Hello! First off let me introduce myself. My name is Jessica, I’m 31 and a mom. I enjoy ethnic food (that’s really important because I like to eat). I have a degree in biochemistry and currently teach various high school science classes; my mind functions in an analytical fashion so I try to approach life’s situations in the same manner. 

I started training Brazilian jiu jitsu just shy of 2 years ago and I currently hold a blue belt, and I couldn’t be prouder of myself. I train both gi and no-gi, and I really don’t favor one over the other. I liken them to children; I love them both equally but for different reasons. Prior to 29 I hadn’t trained any type of martial art beyond light boxing in the garage with my dad (so nothing). However, a few cousins of mine were well versed in the jiu jitsu life and helped me begin my journey.

My 29th year was a throw-away year, a year I would rather forget and pretend that it never happened. At that time my marriage was quickly deteriorating, I actually filed for divorce that year. Twice. The second time it stuck, I swear. During that time I lost a bit of myself, that power that everyone carries inside them. In between navigating the rocks of the divorce-bound track, I was introduced to the magnificent subculture of Brazilian jiu jitsu through my cousin (third cousin but who’s counting?) and her dad. I started attending her super fights and submission only pro tours. I became enticed by the idea; if she can do it, why can’t I? She and I were roughly the same size, myself only an inch taller, same weight….

I made the decision to train one night while watching her compete. I fell in love with the elegance of the gentle art, the raw power that emanated from the mats. However, at the same time it seemed wildly accessible and therefore doable. At the time I was losing myself by the day dealing with my world crashing in on me: I saw training as an outlet for the built-up turmoil that was consuming me, and as a mechanism that would allow me to mold myself into who I wanted to be.

There were days where bjj was my saving grace. I would enter the gym broken down and worn from the day’s ridiculousness and would sweat it away before the night’s end. I quickly found out that the mats didn’t care that my life was falling apart, there wasn’t an easy bjj option because I was struggling inside, so I got my ass kicked daily…..and I loved it. I’m not talking about my coaches and training partners, they have always been very supportive. Rather bjj itself forced me to put all my troubles aside and refocus, redesign, and restructure myself even on the days that I’d rather not. I had to dig deep. I had to. Today I find the very nature of bjj to be extremely metaphorical: life knocks us down more often than not, but if you keep at it for long enough, things get better. 

I’ve kept at it. I’ve since competed in a tournament (one so far, more to come), and found an immense support system in my newfound friends and training partners. Bjj culture is that of an equalizer. It doesn’t matter what walk of life you come from, your size, shape etc; every struggle has a place on the mat. What matters is your willingness to get out there and struggle until you make it.