Levelled Out

By February 2025, I had been training for 9.5 years. And I had been feeling awkward about being a 3 stripe white belt for about 3 of them. When someone new asked me about my experience, I’d either be precise and say it was a long story or I’d be vague and say I’d been at it “a few years.” How I answered depended on how I was feeling at that moment.

Even though explaining it to others still felt awkward, I embraced it. As I celebrated my 9th Jitsu-versary, I made peace with being on track to be a “One Decade White Belt.” I started Jiu Jitsu for self defense. I’d kept at it for the challenge and exercise. I recognized that I’d only started feeling upset about rank after missing my goal for blue (~5 years) and as people began to look surprised when I told my story. But my reasons remain the same. I’m still more interested in defense than attacks, in learning rather than competing. The nights I value most rarely have to do with how I performed in live rounds – they are often focused on nailing the technique we drilled, the triumph of teammates, or helping a new woman fall in love with the sport.

Despite the peace I made with my position, I still struggled to train with any kind of regularity. I’d added in 2 powerlifting classes a week and I was making it to those because they were the least likely to conflict with other things – and I got a nice lil dopamine hit from the quick gains and PRs that I experienced as a near-newbie (I did a lil Olympic lifting back in college). Jiu Jitsu classes might clash with doctors appointments or dance nights or any number of other things. And other things that typically had someone else counting on me. Even depressed, I felt compelled to fulfill my obligations. To others, that is … I’m not so great at fulfilling them for myself.

Low Down

Something unusual happened in the summer of 2024 – my depression got worse. Summer is when my depression is usually the lightest. It’s my favorite season. It’s warm and sunny. I get to do fun things that I can’t or won’t do in other seasons. It’s the only time I’ll surf in our frigid Maine waters. Pre-burnout from my previous job, it was the season where I could actually reduce my depression medication dosage.

When I reached fall with no improvement, I knew I had to do something different. I had tried adding a second medication in the past and just wound up with wicked dry mouth that lead to a wicked H. Pylori infection, so more drugs weren’t the answer. I started looking into TMS (Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation), a non-invasive physical treatment meant to “wake up” the depressed parts of the brain. After a false start with one provider who hosed up my insurance approval, I got approved with a different provider and began treatment in early November.

Lead Head

TMS treatment was unusual. I started with two and a half hours sitting very still in a dentist-like chair with a grid cap on to get “mapped” (determine where to aim the magnet). And then 20 minutes of treatment 5 days a week for 7 weeks. They describe the sensation of the magnet pulsing on your skull as “tapping” – that word feels a little too gentle for how it felt, but I’m not sure which word works better. It’s lighter than a thump, sharper than a whack. Kind of like having a very large elastic band pulled tight and snapped against your scalp.

The first week, I didn’t really notice a difference except for some vivid dreams – the funniest and most notable one was that I was meeting rock band, The Warning, backstage at some sort of award show when one of them sneezed right in my face – and I woke up to Miles snorting at me for breakfast. My sleep had been the bad end of iffy before I started treatment. I thought it might have gotten slightly better, but after 5 straight days of treatments, I was exhausted. And it continued that way through my treatment.

Love Lost?

By mid-December, I thought I might have fallen out of love with jiu jitsu. It was the first time I’d taken an extended break and hadn’t missed it. I wonder if I was just done with it. It’s something I didn’t say out loud to anyone. Just a thought that crept into my brain and sat in the background. Like thinking you might have to break up with someone but not being sure enough to do it.

I was tired of nagging injuries limiting my activity. I was tired of schedule conflicts or conflicted feelings. I was just so fucking tired.

Levelling Up

I went into the day assuming that I was going to be celebrating the accomplishments of my teammates. I had a feeling Alyssa, our highest ranking woman and incredibly supportive teammate, was going to get her purple belt. I didn’t think I’d been consistent enough, that the coaches had seen me enough, to level up. I thought that maybe they might top off my white belt with that last stripe because I kept coming back after all my brief absences. There was a tiny flicker of hope that maybe it would be more than the stripe. More my eternal optimism than any real expectation. Still, because it made me smile, I decided to toss on the “Pretty Bad Ass” shorts I’d worn to all my tests at the last minute. They were buried in the drawer, rarely worn in the last 5 years.

I partnered with my newly-pregnant friend Ann for the seminar portion of the morning. She’d expressed some nervousness about it beforehand and I’d volunteered to partner up, happy to skip or modify anything that made her anxious. As it happened, there was only one face down stomach-squishing move in the mix, so I simply had her practice it on me and not vice versa. We drilled and laughed and sweat our way through the seminar.

When the time came for promotions, we lined up. Colored belts in the front, white belts (and 14yo gray belt, Ella) in the back, in roughly (very roughly) in order of rank. They would call up those being promoted in rank order. First off was Chelsea, a woman who’d been training consistently and killing it for months. She was shocked when she was called up and given 2 stripes at once. When she fell back into line, I congratulated her and teased her for seeming so surprised when she’d been putting in the work. Ella was called up and awarded her gray/black belt – also not surprising, given her move to adult classes and assistant coaching in the little kids classes. Then Coach Kramer got out the first blue belt… and called my name.

After I hugged each coach, I began to walk back to my place in line. This time it was my turn to be given a hard time – I was walking back to the white belts. I was supposed to line up with the blue belts now! I took my place in line and cheered as others received rewards for their hard work.

Two new blues lined up next to me: Eric, the LEO who uses the story of me tapping him in his very first live roll to convince other officers to join the sport. Tyler, whose cover band I’d discovered a year ago by chance and had become a regular for their shows. I hugged them each and congratulated them, happy I was there to see their moment and proud of them. They each knew a bit about my story and told me how happy and proud they were of me.

The promotions continued and Coach Kramer awarded Evolution’s first purple belts. Dan & Alyssa were moving up, hard workers who’d been putting in the time and giving back by teaching. I silently congratulated myself on guessing correctly, while loudly cheering for them as the belts went on.

After that, we wrapped up the event with group photos and promotion photos and extra congratulations all around. I got in the car and Top of the World by Dorothy started playing. I laughed when I realized it, grinning ear to ear and stepping on the gas.

After cleaning up and getting changed, I thought about going back to class on Monday and felt impostor syndrome threaten to take hold. Would it feel right to be on the mats with that belt? What would visitors think?

I checked out the lovely photos our in-house photographer had taken. I teased him when I saw my promotion pics – he rarely got me in day to day candids, but he managed to get gorgeous pictures of me ugly crying as I received my belt. Alyssa sent me a wonderful message later that night, saying again how happy she was for me. Another teammate, Lindsay, sent me video she’d taken. I watched it, hoping I would be able to make out what Coach had said to me, but my teammates were cheering too loudly for me to hear him. What a wonderful problem to have.

And After…

I had stuffed my battered white belt into a drawer – if I left it in my gym bag, I might have put it back on out of habit. I expected the flash of impostor syndrome that hit me a few hours after the promotion to stick around. Much to my surprise, it didn’t. On Monday, I had my first class with.. blue gi and blue sports bra – I swear, I didn’t plan to match, I was overdue for laundry and that was all I had! The stiff belt felt awkward to tie, but class felt good. Rolling felt different but not at the same time. I hit a smooth sweep during a low key roll with Lu, one of those rare BJJers who can actually roll light when they say they will. The belt fabric may have been stiff, but I was starting to relax into my new rank.

After a few more classes, I started to think about my development. What did progress look like for a non-competition blue belt? A weekly class w/Coach Bruce was focusing on back control and since that is the best place to be in BJJ, I thought I would start working on that. And I did, for a couple of weeks…

And Now…

This post is coming so much later because about a month after the promotion, what little progress I got from TMS vaporized and perimenopause hit me like a ton of bricks. For any menfolk reading and flinching away, chill out. Perimenopause has an enormous number of possible symptoms and only a few have to do with “lady parts.” As is my body’s habit, I got a slew of small but annoying symptoms. Break outs, dry skin, itchy ears, bloating. And some bigger ones – a drop in the quality of my already dismal sleep, fatigue, brain fog.

At the same time, my laptop bit the dust. While I could technically have used my work laptop to finish the post, it felt wrong. A casual glance at my email might have working intruding on my personal time. And then my work schedule shifted, my strength trainer moved away, and the yoga classes were reduced. It felt like everything was off balance.

By the time the holidays rolled around, I just decided to call it for the year. Self-inflicted pressure that “I should be going more” wasn’t helping. This go around, the break was an intentional rest & reset, rather than demanded by circumstances/doctor’s appointments. And this time I didn’t question my love of the sport.

When January rolled around, I got back to classes. After several months of putting an ass print on my couch, I was woefully out of condition. I exhaustion tapped about halfway through my very first roll with Alyssa. Not even ‘let’s switch to drilling” (which she kindly offered) – just straight up running out of juice. I knew it was going to be a long haul to even get back to the so-so state I was in last fall.

Since then, I can’t say I’ve been consistent, but I’ve been making the effort. The benefit to starting so low is that I’ve already seen some improvement. I went to 3 classes last week. I felt a lot of soreness in my abs and arms by the end of it, but nothing that a little rest & epsom soaks wouldn’t fix.

Today marks 1 year since I earned my blue belt. I’m still here. I’m happy to say that both the other blues promoted that day are still there too. We’ve all had shifts or changes in training, but we keep coming back. My aim is to get more consistent before making a larger plan. But whichever path I choose, I know I’ll keep moving forward.