Falling In Love with the Grind: My Journey as a Purple Belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu

There’s something about Jiu-Jitsu that sinks its hooks into you. For me, that grip has only tightened since being promoted to purple belt. It’s not just about chasing medals anymore — it’s about chasing something bigger: growth, humility, and the joy of constant learning.

At white and blue belt, it was easier to feel like I was "winning." If I made a mistake, my athleticism could bridge the gap. If my technique wasn’t quite right, I could push the pace and will my way through it. At those levels, physicality was enough to survive — and sometimes, it was enough to win.

But purple belt doesn’t care how strong you are. It doesn’t care how fast you are. Purple belt demands something deeper: precision, patience, and presence. I’ve competed five times since earning my purple belt, and I haven't finished higher than second place. It would be easy to look at that and feel defeated.

But that’s not how I see it.

Because every match, every mistake, every second-place finish has been another chance to learn. Every loss has been a win in disguise — a new opportunity to sharpen my understanding of this beautiful, brutal art.

The Shift from "Winning" to Loving the Process

At some point in this journey, I realized that it wasn’t about "winning" anymore. It was about loving the sport itself. When I was younger in Jiu-Jitsu — as a white and blue belt — success felt tied to outcomes. Did I win the match? Did I tap the other guy? Did I take home gold?

But now, it’s different. My definition of success has evolved. Success is measured in inches. It’s measured in those small moments where I see the growth in myself. It’s hitting that sweep I’ve been drilling for weeks. It’s recognizing a position that used to confuse me and knowing, without hesitation, exactly what to do. It’s seeing the game slow down, even for a second, and realizing that I’m becoming something more.

I used to think “growth” happened in spikes — sudden jumps forward in skill. But now I know better. Growth is slower than that. It’s layered into the daily grind. It’s the quiet, unseen progress that only reveals itself after weeks and months of dedicated work.

This sport is a mirror. It shows you who you are, plain and simple. It shows you where you’re weak, where you’re scared, where you hesitate. But that’s where the beauty is. Jiu-Jitsu gives you the chance to confront all of it — not just once, but every single day.

The Battle with My Body — and Winning It

When I look back at photos of myself from October 2023, I see a 242-lb version of me. I was powerful, sure, but something wasn’t right. I was moving, but I wasn’t moving well. My body was working against me in ways I couldn’t fully see at the time.

Since then, I’ve dropped to 204 lbs, and I’m not done yet. I’m pushing to find a weight class that fits not just my frame, but my style of play. Shedding that weight hasn’t just changed how I move — it’s changed how I think. The process of cutting down has been a test of discipline, patience, and resolve. It’s forced me to embrace discomfort and commit to long-term growth, even when it’s hard to see immediate results.

This isn’t a "diet" or a "cut." It’s a shift in how I approach the sport as a whole. It’s about getting my body to align with my purpose. I want to be faster. I want to be more agile. I want to feel free to express myself on the mats. And that process of transformation has taught me one thing: if you’re willing to be patient and consistent, you can become whoever you want to be.

That lesson extends far beyond Jiu-Jitsu.

We Never Lose, We Just Learn

If you’ve been around the Jiu-Jitsu community long enough, you’ve probably heard this mantra: "We never lose, we just learn."

At first, it sounds like a feel-good quote — something you tell a teammate after a tough loss. But it’s not just words. It’s a reality. Jiu-Jitsu forces you to live it. When you’re caught in a bad position and your opponent’s pressure feels unbearable, there’s no hiding. You either figure it out, or you tap. Either way, you learn.

I’ve had five tournaments as a purple belt. Five opportunities to prove myself. Five times I’ve walked away without a gold medal. But I’m okay with that because I know those experiences have taught me more than any win could have. Losses don’t crush me anymore. They light a fire.

Every loss is a map. It shows me exactly where I need to grow. It’s like being handed the blueprints to the next version of myself. I don't get angry anymore when I lose. I get curious. I ask myself, "What did I miss? What did I need that I didn’t have?" And then I take that answer with me back to the mats.

I’m not afraid to lose. I’m afraid of staying the same.

Building for 2025: The Best is Yet to Come

I know a lot of people hang their self-worth on wins and medals. I get it. I’ve been there. But this journey has taught me that it’s not the medal that matters. It’s who you become along the way.

In 2025, I’m coming back sharper, faster, and more focused than ever. But I’m not chasing a gold medal. I’m chasing the growth it takes to win one. I’m chasing that feeling of walking off the mats knowing that, win or lose, I left a better version of myself out there.

I know now that I’m not supposed to have it all figured out at purple belt. I’m supposed to struggle. I’m supposed to make mistakes. I’m supposed to confront challenges that seem insurmountable — because that’s where the growth lives.

That’s why I love this sport.

It’s not just a collection of techniques, moves, and submissions. It’s a lifestyle of self-discovery. It’s a reminder that we’re never “done.” We’re never fully complete. And that’s not a flaw — that’s the magic.

The Takeaway: Keep Showing Up

If I could offer one piece of advice to anyone on this journey — white belt, blue belt, or even purple belt like me — it’s this: keep showing up.

The mats are honest. They won’t lie to you. They’ll show you where you’re strong, where you’re weak, and where you need to grow. Some days you’ll leave feeling unstoppable. Other days, you’ll leave feeling defeated. But every single day, you’ll leave better than you were before.

That’s the beauty of Jiu-Jitsu. It doesn’t care where you started. It only cares if you’re willing to stay. And I’m staying.

Not just for the wins. Not just for the medals.

I’m staying because I love this sport. I love the challenge. I love the grind.

I love that every single day, I get to discover something new — about Jiu-Jitsu, about my opponents, and most importantly, about myself.

So to 2025, I say this: I’m ready.

Not ready to "win."

Ready to learn. Ready to grow. Ready to love this sport more than I ever have before.

The goal isn’t perfection. The goal is progress.

And if progress is the goal, then every mat, every match, and every moment is a victory.