I was never the athletic type.
In my 34 years of existence, I had never truly embraced physical activity. I wasnât drawn to sports or outdoor adventures, and if Iâm honest, I never really saw myself in that world. It always felt like a realm reserved for extrovertsâpeople bursting with energy, confidence, and a camaraderie I couldnât quite understand. As someone introverted by nature, I believed I simply belonged elsewhere.
Sure, I made attempts in the past. I joined a few school groups. I even tried Taekwondo during high school and dabbled in badminton in college. But no matter how hard I tried, I never felt like I belonged. It wasnât the activity itself that pushed me awayâit was the overwhelming sense that I wasnât enough, or that I wasnât the right kind of person for that space.
I now realize that it wasnât about being bad at sports. It was about not yet finding the right reason, the right rhythm, or the right place to begin.
A Chance Encounter, A New Beginning
Then came October 2024. I was walking through Al Riggaâjust an ordinary dayâwhen I stumbled upon two kabayan (a term we use for fellow Filipinos living abroad). They were practicing Arnis, a Filipino martial art that uses sticks as weapons. Something about it immediately drew me inâthe elegance, the discipline, the raw cultural pride embedded in every movement.
Living far from home, you begin to treasure your roots more deeply. Seeing Arnis felt like a piece of the Philippines brought to life in the middle of the city. So I asked them if they were accepting beginners, half-expecting a polite no. But they said yes.
That small âyesâ opened a new door.
I bought my first pair of Arnis sticks and a set of clothes for training. Just like that, I stepped into a world I never thought would welcome me.
Conquering Myself
Iâll be honestâthe first day was hard. The sticks felt awkward in my hands, my stances were shaky, and my movements uncertain. Arnis demands more than coordination; it requires focus, awareness, and humility. Learning the 13 manners of Arnisâits foundational strikes and stancesâwas like learning a new language, one my body wasnât fluent in.
I felt weak. But I also felt something new: a quiet voice inside whispering, Donât give up just yet.
Thatâs the day I realized that the greatest battle wasnât with the sticks, or with the formâit was with myself. My habits, my self-doubt, my comfort zone. Getting up early on weekends, sacrificing sleep, showing up even when I didnât feel like itâthose were my first real wins. Because before we can conquer anything in the world, we must first learn to face ourselves.
Facing the World
Once Iâd learned to show up, the next challenge was showing up in front of others. Practicing alongside people more experienced than me brought new insecurities to the surface. I couldnât help but compare myself, questioning whether I belonged in the group.
But over time, something shifted. I realized that strength comes in many formsânot just physical. Strength is also the courage to start, the humility to learn, and the heart to keep going despite fear.
The truth is, everyone is figuring things out. Each person has their own battles. And when I looked more closely, I began to admire not just their skillâbut their patience, their kindness, their willingness to support someone like me. Thatâs when I saw: the real strength of a martial artist isnât in overpowering others, but in empowering them.




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