the white belt diaries

one woman’s journey through brazilian jiu jitsu

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about

I’m Mae, 32, starting Brazilian Jiu Jitsu to reconnect with my body, rebuild my courage, and finally follow through on something that scares me.

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  • the sweat, the smell and the adjustment

    the sweat, the smell and the adjustment

    There is a moment every time I walk into the gym where my senses have to recalibrate. The air is heavy before anything else happens. Warm and thick, it carries the unmistakable smell of effort. Twenty people have already been rolling before my class begins, and the room holds onto that smell. The windows are…

  • three months in, still showing up

    three months in, still showing up

    I didn’t mean to disappear for three months. I think I assumed that once I’d written about my first class, the rest would unfold neatly. That I’d keep showing up, keep improving, keep documenting the journey in tidy little entries. Instead, I realised that I don’t know what the hell I’m doing every time I…

  • the first roll

    I didn’t give myself time to think my way out of it. A shift that ended barely half an hour before class left me with no space to spiral into overthinking, no window for the quiet, creeping voice that tells me I don’t belong anywhere new. I left work, changed quickly, and drove straight to…

  • okay, so… I didn’t go

    I braided my hair, set the mood with Jhené Aiko, and told the gym I’d see them soon. But when I took a wrong turn and landed behind a red light that wouldn’t change, I bailed. I wasn’t ready. Or maybe I was — and that scared me more.

  • why the hell am I doing this?

    Grief pulled me out of my body. Yoga couldn’t bring me back. So I’m starting from zero — with bruises, borrowed courage, and a white belt.