When I first entered the dojo, I didn’t know a lot of things. I didn't know how to stand or move. I didn’t know how to kick or punch but ultimately I would start to realize there was so much more to this art than that. I didn't know how to fall or get up. I didn’t know what a kata was but I would start to learn how kata went beyond the movement to become an expression of who I am.

I didn’t know karate would become so much more to me. Now karate runs in my blood. I didn’t know how much I would sweat and struggle, but I also didn’t know how I would learn to fight through it. I didn't know how my dojo would be there to show me how to fall and get back up. I didn’t know how I would become a better person. I didn’t know how proud I would start to become of our art, of the dojo that became my second family. I didn’t know they would become family, but they would help me through so much more than just karate. If I could go back to teach the me that entered the dojo for the first time, I wouldn’t teach that me a single thing. She had to learn to stand on her own two feet. She had to learn to move. She had to learn to block and punch. She had to learn how to fall. She had to learn to get back up. She had to learn what karate-doh means. She’s still learning.