jiu-jitsu

November 17, 2025

The Weird Guys (and Gals) of Martial Arts (Part 1): The Bad Weirdos

Let’s be real: martial arts attracts weirdos.

Not the charming, quirky ones who collect nunchucks and dad jokes. No. I’m talking about the ones who make you question whether martial arts really is for everyone. The ones who weaponize trauma, misunderstanding, or just plain ego—and turn every training session into a cringe-inducing experience.

You’ve seen them. You’ve probably rolled or sparred with them. And if you haven’t… brace yourself. They’re coming.

1. The Arcane Alchemist

He’s not here to train—he’s here to transcend.

This guy believes martial arts are primarily about channelling your chi, cleansing your aura, and aligning his bone marrow to the vibrational frequency of an eagle in flight. He doesn’t spar because it disrupts his energy field. He doesn’t drill technique because it’s too “external.” He’s here to talk about meridians and internal spirals and the time he knocked out a dude using only his breath.

Ask where he learned this, and it’s always a “secret lineage” or a reclusive master in the mountains who doesn’t believe in belts. Or hygiene.

He will leave as soon as he realizes your gym isn’t a temple, and no one wants to hear about his astral projections during hip escapes.

2. Mr. “I Wanna Learn UFC”

Not MMA. Not jiu jitsu. Not striking. UFC.

This guy watches knockouts on Instagram and thinks that’s the whole curriculum. He walks into your gym and immediately asks when you’ll be doing “cage work,” as if every community centre doubles as the UFC Apex Center. He doesn’t care about fundamentals. He just wants to jump into live sparring and “go full out.”

He’s always in a Tapout shirt from a garage sale, and his pre-workout smells like regret. You know he’s going to get armbarred, guillotined, and heel hooked within the free trial week, and when he quits, he’ll tell everyone the gym “wasn’t intense enough.”

Spoiler: It was too intense—for him.

3. The Thirsty Rash Guard Girl

Yes, women can be weird too. Equality.

She shows up to her first nogi class dressed like she’s on her way to a Coachella pool party.

Minimal clothing, maximum attention-seeking. She’s not here to train—she’s here to roll with the hottest upper belts in the room. Her triangle setups make no technical sense, but she still manages to add a bonus layer of unnecessary intimacy to an already intimate technique.

You want to be supportive, welcoming, and professional—but the vibes are weird. Real weird. She rotates through male training partners like profiles on a dating app, then disappears when she figures out they’re more into hitting the technique than hitting on her.

Her gi is always freshly washed. Her technique? Not so much.

4. The Pain Tourist

This guy doesn’t want to learn. He wants to survive a fictional prison riot.

Every technique has to be “real for the street.” He’s constantly asking what you’d do if the opponent had a knife, a gun, a rabid dog, or a rabid dog weilding a gun and a knife! You’re drilling guard retention, and he’s like, “What if he bites you?” He carries himself like someone who’s preparing for a post-apocalyptic bar fight, not an inter-academy tournament.

He doesn’t trust systems or fundamentals. But he does trust his own paranoid instincts, which mostly involve flinching and trying to fish-hook people.

He’s not here to grow—he’s here to indulge his fantasy of being Jason Bourne with anger issues.

5. The Chip-on-Their-Shoulder Grappler

You can spot them before the round even starts: clenched jaw, thousand-yard stare, already sweating.

This person is not here to train. They’re here to win—at all costs. Every roll is life or death. Every partner is a proxy for their ex, their childhood bully, or whoever told them they peaked in high school. You go to flow roll, and they go full championship final. You tap them, and suddenly they’re asking for “just one more round.”

There’s always an origin story. A divorce. A workplace humiliation. A teenage trauma they never unpacked. Jiu jitsu is their therapy—and unfortunately, you are the unpaid counsellor caught in their processing loop.

To be clear, martial arts can be therapeutic. But it’s not therapy. No matter how many sweaty meme pages say otherwise.

6. The Coach Who Only Cares About the “Good” Students

This one hits different—because this person is in charge.

You notice it right away: there are favourites, and then there are invisible people. If you’re young, athletic, winning competitions, or just naturally gifted, you’re golden. The coach is watching your rolls, giving you corrections, shouting encouragement.

But if you’re older, slower, struggling with the basics, or just showing up to train consistently without fireworks? You’re background noise.

No corrections. No feedback. Just vibes. And not good ones.

What makes this extra weird is that martial arts is supposed to be for everyone. That’s the whole pitch. But some instructors treat the less “talented” students like grappling dummies—ideal to toss around, but generally ignored and left in the corner.

Meanwhile, they’re grooming their chosen few like a coach in an ’80s sports movie who peaked in college.

It’s a subtle kind of weirdness—but maybe the most corrosive of all. Because it tells people: You only matter if you win.

Spoiler: those “non-athletes”? They often end up being the toughest, most thoughtful, most dedicated students in the room. But they leave—because they know they’re not seen.

Final Thoughts

Martial arts is a magnet for misfits—and some of them are awesome. But the ones above? They’re not here to get better. They’re here to project something onto the mat: superiority, insecurity, fantasy, or trauma.

The trick is learning to spot them early, set boundaries, and focus on what you came for: growth, sweat, and maybe—just maybe—a good laugh at how weird we all are sometimes.

Next time: we talk about the good weirdos. The ones you love to have in the room, even if you can’t explain why.

Until then, keep your hands up, your mind sharp, and your vibe grounded.

July 6, 2025

Why Women Quit Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (and All Martial Arts, Really): The Real Deal (And How We Can Fix It)

So you’ve seen more women hitting the mats lately — awesome! But you’ve probably also noticed that a lot of them don’t stick around. Why do women quit BJJ, a sport that’s supposed to be about empowerment, grit, and, well, chokeholds?

Spoiler alert: it’s not just BJJ. These challenges play out across all martial arts.

Turns out, quitting isn’t always about toughness or lack of willpower. It’s more about the environment, the culture, and yes, sometimes just how physically and psychologically demanding the sport really is. Here’s what I found, after digging into Reddit threads, surveys, and some real talk from the mats.

It’s Not “Just” Injuries or Time — But They Matter

Let’s start with the obvious. Injuries suck. Martial arts are not a Sunday stroll — they’re physical grinds, and injuries pile up like laundry after a week-long training binge. One Reddit user summed it up nicely:

“I loved training, but after several nagging injuries and a hectic work schedule, I just couldn’t keep up.”

Busy schedules and life changes—kids, jobs, and the dreaded “adult stuff”—also pull people off the mats. Women often juggle more of these responsibilities, which can mean less time and energy for training.

But injuries and time, while universal hurdles, are just the start for women.

When the Gym Culture Feels Like a Contact Sport of Its Own

This is where it gets tricky. Women report facing microaggressions, awkward (or worse) advances, and a culture that sometimes feels less like a supportive dojo and more like a boys’ club with grappling.

A user on Reddit’s r/xxfitness nailed it:

“Sometimes you feel like you’re not there to learn but to be the token girl or worse, to entertain some guys’ egos.”

Training shouldn’t feel like an audition for a reality show titled “How Much Can She Take?” But sadly, many women experience exactly that.

The Isolation Factor: When You’re the Only Woman on the Mat

Nothing like being the lone woman surrounded by twenty dudes who think “tap” is just a style of dance. It can feel like every mistake is magnified, like you’re carrying the weight of representing all women in martial arts.

One purple belt shared on a forum:

“It can feel like you’re representing all women, so every mistake or failure feels magnified.”

Isolation breeds self-doubt, and self-doubt leads to walking away.

Partnering Mismatches: When Training Partners Are More Like Giants

Martial arts training is intimate — you’re literally rolling around, tangled up with strangers. If you’re a 135-pound woman paired with a 300-pound man who looks like he bench-presses cars, it’s less “challenge” and more “survival mode.”

This can make training feel unsafe or discouraging rather than empowering. It’s not just about strength — mismatched partners can knock confidence down like a row of dominoes.

What the Numbers Say (Even If We Don’t Have All the Answers)

Women are estimated to make up about 20% of BJJ practitioners, but fewer than 1 in 10 are coaches — and even fewer are black belt head instructors. That’s a glaring gender gap — and representation matters.

A survey from the Women in Sport Institute highlighted how body image and puberty-related issues cause many girls and women to drop out of sports early — and those factors echo in martial arts dropout rates too.

There aren’t many hard stats on why women quit BJJ specifically, but anecdotal evidence, surveys, and forum chatter tell a consistent story: injuries, time constraints, toxic culture, and lack of support top the list.

This Isn’t Just BJJ — It’s a Martial Arts-Wide Challenge

While I’m focusing on Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, since it is the main martial art I practice now, the reality is these issues affect women across all martial arts — whether it’s karate, taekwondo, judo, muay thai, or any other style. The combination of physical injuries, male-dominated training spaces, and cultural barriers is a common thread that can drive women away.

The good news is that the solutions are similar across disciplines: fostering respect, creating safe and inclusive spaces, offering women-specific programs, and mentoring. When martial arts gyms commit to these changes, everyone benefits.

How Gyms Can Step Up and Keep Women on the Mats

The good news? This isn’t a lost cause. Gyms can do a lot to make martial arts more welcoming for women — and everyone benefits.

  • Create an inclusive culture. Call out bad behavior, foster respect, and make it clear harassment won’t be tolerated.
  • Offer women-only classes or open discussions. Safe spaces build confidence and community.
  • Mentorship programs. Pair new female practitioners with experienced women to guide and encourage them.
  • Be mindful about training partners. Avoid pairing women with partners so mismatched that they’re scared before the first grip.

Final Thoughts

Women don’t quit martial arts because they’re not tough enough. They quit because the sport sometimes asks more than it gives back — especially in environments that don’t acknowledge their specific challenges.

If we want more women sticking around and thriving on the mats, it’s on us — instructors, gym owners, and teammates — to listen, adapt, and create spaces where everyone feels respected and empowered.

Every roll should build trust, every tap should build respect. If women leave because we failed at both, then maybe the real fight was never on the mats — but in how we treat each other off them.

Having posted previously about women’s issues in the martial arts, I know I will receive some provincial, small-minded and hateful comments, and to that I say: “You don’t win friends with salad!”

If you’re a woman who’s trained martial arts, or a coach wanting to improve gym culture, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Drop a comment or reach out — this conversation matters.

December 31, 2024

“Just Bridge” – A Females Perspective on Grappling

“Just bridge…”

“Just push them over…”

This might just be me, but the word “just” might be the most condescending word in the English language.

The word “just” sometimes implies a sense of simplicity or insignificance, which can inadvertently belittle the complexity of a situation or someone’s efforts. For instance, phrases like “It’s just a minor issue” might downplay someone’s concerns or experiences.

Its undertones can create an air of superiority or impatience, subtly diminishing the importance of the matter at hand. To foster respectful and inclusive communication, it’s important to be mindful of the potential condescending undertones associated with the word – in this instance, in the context of martial arts classes.

If accomplishing something were truly as easy as “just” doing it, there would be no need for consistent practice and dedication.

In my 25+ years of experience in martial arts, I’ve found it common for some instructors to underestimate the differences in strength, speed, power, and leverage between their male and female students. I’ve seen this even more so with men I’ve rolled and sparred with.

Some such differences can include strength, bone density, fast-twitch muscle groups, and reach, which can sometimes make it much more difficult for a female to perform as well against their male counterparts.

But this isn’t the only dichotomy; this can also be seen with taller instructors/ sparring partners underestimating the issues faced by shorter students and vice versa, or younger instructors/sparring partners with older students, etc.

When the instructor tells the group to roll or spar at “50%” (which often very few people do, except for those with experience), it’s important to remember that one person’s 50% effort can be another person’s 120% effort. Hence, the younger, stronger, or more experienced grapplers or strikers must remember to curb their efforts towards the capacity of their older, weaker, or less experienced partners.

This act of equity can ensure that both parties can enjoy the practice while still learning. Nobody enjoys the feeling of being completely crushed by their partner in practice, particularly when they are truly putting their best efforts forward – it’s defeating.

Hence, in such scenarios, when the partner or instructor asks, “Why didn’t you just armbar me?” or says, “You know you could have just bridged and rolled there…” They’re actually rubbing salt in an open wound. If knowing the correct technique was all that was needed to be competitive in martial arts as a sport, we wouldn’t have weight classes, and steroids wouldn’t be so frowned upon.

But whether you practice martial arts for sport and fitness or for self-defence, knowing how to adjust your energies for the benefit of your partners and how to communicate with them effectively, as well as how to communicate to others how to do so for the sake of your students if you’re instructors, can make the difference between a growing community within your club and disgruntled ex-students.

So, let’s retire the word “just” from our martial arts vocabulary—at least when it’s used to trivialize challenges or dismiss effort. Progress in martial arts, like in life, is rarely simple, and implying otherwise undermines the grit, growth, and respect that define the journey. Whether you’re sparring with a partner, teaching a class, or simply offering advice, choose words that build bridges, not barriers.

Because in the end, martial arts isn’t about “just” winning—it’s about lifting each other up, one roll, one spar, and one carefully chosen word at a time.