Power

Power. How it puffs one’s chest and tilts a chin so high, everyone falls beneath them.

That's one kind of power, a force that surrounded me, held by the wrong people who used it to elevate themselves by breaking others down.

But there's a different type of power, one filled with love, self-worth, and standards—a power passed down to me, once heavy before I learned to carry it.

With power comes great responsibility, and for me, it was daunting. Holding a power that can influence those around me is terrifying, as a daughter, friend, but especially as a big sister.

On July 20th, 2022, a white gi and belt were given to me, and I was pushed onto the mat. I would have much preferred lying in my bed, but there I was, on a mat doing drills.

I found any excuse not to make it to class, and my dad found every solution. Jiu Jitsu was inescapable, and I was upset.

Until one day, I looked in the mirror and found someone who (very reluctantly) became stronger, smarter, and gained the ability to protect herself.

Every negative feeling about Jiu Jitsu faded away, and I understood why my dad fought so hard for me.

"Give a man a fish, feed him for a day. Teach him how to fish, feed him for a lifetime." - Lao Tzu

My dad saw how comfortable I was with receiving fish, so he held my hand until I was ready to cast my own line.