I saw a friend at school I hadn’t seen for two years. I was so happy and excited, I couldn’t wait to hit the mat with them. “Wow, what rank are you now?” they asked. It didn’t feel comfortable to tell them that despite stellar attendance and a lot of hard work, I was still at the third rank.
I know I’m not the typical Krav Maga student. I am not talented athletically. I avoided gym class like the plague, using the myriad of doctors notes diagnosing me with every possible condition to allow me to return to the sweet embrace of the library. I hate violence, and even flinch at sparring matches where no one should be getting hurt. I faint at the sight of blood.
Of course, there’s the additional issue of me being disabled. I have a whole alphabet soup of diagnoses, including autism and sensory processing disorder, which is a fancy way of saying that my body doesn’t handle the stimulation of my senses very well. When there is too much noise, my brain actually shuts off and I am in a complete fog of the mental Blue Screen of Death.
When I first wrote this post, I wrote a very different article where I talked about the struggles I was going through, and how hard it was for me.
After reading my first draft, my instructor Raz Chen wanted me to take some time and reflect on who I was as a student. He saw a very different picture when he looked at me. What he saw was a senior student, one who was respected by her peers and instructor, and who had a lot of skill and knowledge. He asked me to really think about who I truly was. “Tell your story, the full story.”
After a lot of thinking, I realized my Krav Maga story is about struggle, but also about growth. My unique challenges also gave me unique skills. It reminded me of training Krav Maga outside in the rain. It felt exhausting and miserable during the class, but is now one of my fondest memories.
Maybe It’s Not So Bad
Because I struggle with learning, I’m able to understand new students who are also struggling. Since it doesn’t come naturally to me, I have to think through every step. That means I can explain it well, since I had similar gaps.
Not learning the way others did also forced me to learn creatively. Teaching people how to throw a horizontal elbow with “Cross your heart and hope he dies,” to teach them how to follow through may sound silly, but it works. I should know, that’s how I taught it to myself.
It also allowed me to welcome people who felt that they didn’t belong. I remember one new student having a sensory meltdown and feeling humiliated. I knew exactly how she felt, I had them myself. I agreed with her that it felt terrifying and debilitating, but she had nothing to be ashamed about. Everyone in class had seen me have them, and no one thought less of me. My disabilities allowed me to be there for students in a way very few others could.
Krav Maga has helped me deal with the exhaustion of sensory stimulation in my daily life. I feel safer knowing that because of the mental callouses I gained being triggered over and over, I am tougher when confronted with sensory overloads. I feel more in control of my own body.
Most importantly, Krav Maga taught me how to move through pain. I had to finally confront fears, traumas and triggers. I remember the first time I was put in full mount, feeling this paralyzing terror from trauma. Working through it required me to open emotional doors I had nailed shut and finally start cleaning out the mess inside.
In future articles, I plan to break down specific challenges and the lessons I’ve learned from them, but I want to start with a message of hope. If you are courageous, hard-working and committed, you will progress. Your path will be different, but it will be a rich and incredible one.
Despite not having made progress in terms of my rank, I have made so much progress in other ways. It may not be things that are measured on tests, but I’ve pushed through adversity, I’ve supported other students in their journey, and I’ve gotten better than I was before. Krav Maga is one of the hardest aspects of my life, but it has also been one of the most healing aspects of my life.
I know there are so many people who could benefit so much from the mental and physical and emotional aspects of martial arts training, but don’t feel they fit into the culture. They think they are too broken, or too weak, and they don’t make that leap of faith. Even if they walk in, they look around and see athletic people and think “That could never be me.”
In my tiny corner, I want to be the one who welcomes my tribe of misfits. When they struggle, I want to be there to tell them the journey is rough, but so worth it.
When I manage to get myself out of my bouts of self-pity, I’m proud of myself.
So, yes, I’m still at the same rank, but I am so much better. And that is what counts.
Off the mat, Elke is a real estate attorney and blogger, with degrees in urban planning, law, and history. She has worked in both the non-profit and profit sectors, has been awarded numerous fellowships, including serving as the Biodiversity Fellow at the Israeli Ministry of Environmental Protection. She’s proud to serve on the Board of Debate for Peace, which she insists counts as verbal sparring practice.
- Be Willing to Say No - December 13, 2022
- Finding a Real Life Sailor Moon - July 29, 2022
- Happy Mother’s Day Isn’t An Insult - June 28, 2022
Good inspiring article on your Krav Maga Elke