Moving to Australia at 30 - Why I Had to Rebuild My Life - EP8

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Finding My Way Back to the Mats


While I was juggling two jobs, parenthood and the slow, grinding reality of a life in a new country, something remained constant: martial arts. Karate, especially. It had been my anchor since my teens, and it wasn’t going to be different now.


I had to find a dojo. Quickly.


When I stepped onto the mats in Australia for the first time in years, something unexpected happened: I remembered everything. It’s true what they say about riding a bicycle. I was rusty, yes, but the foundation was still there. My hands still knew where to go. My feet still understood the movements.


I trained at several dojos before I settled at UMMA (Ultimate Mixed Martial Arts) in the eastern suburbs. I spent four years there, training in both Muay Thai classes and in a second class which was a mix of different martial arts thrown in a blender, with focus on Karate and its plethora of katas with increasing difficulty as we moved up ranks.


It was at UMMA that I had my first real encounter with Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. I didn’t understand it at first. It looked like wrestling, like two fighters embracing each other on the ground. But I was slowly learning to trust the process, to accept that there was more than one way to win a fight.


This dojo became my second home. Not because the training was easy, it wasn’t, but because it was honest. There was no financial stress thoughts, depression or loneliness out on the mats. There was only what my body could do and what my mind would accept. There was only the focus on becoming better, learning the next technique, the next person willing to spar with me and test what I’d learned.