Betrayal, Breathwork, and Finding Strength in the Dojo

My Unexpected Path to Healing

I didn’t join martial arts seeking healing. It started as a trial for another project, something I thought might simply be interesting or beneficial for my advocacy work. What I never anticipated was how profoundly the experience would work on me.

Though I had spent the last three years deeply invested in my healing—practicing mindfulness and rebuilding my sense of safety—I was in a genuinely good place in my life when I first stepped into the dojo. I felt steady, at home in my body and life. I had surrounded myself with support, and meaningful connections—I was stable and at peace.

 Yet from my first class, my body responded with old alarms—male instructors, hands on me, choking drills. My nervous system was on high alert. Despite all the progress I’d made, trauma surfaced without warning, especially when movement, trust, and touch became part of the practice.

Still, I kept breathing through the discomfort and continued to show up.

Amidst the drills and unease, I realized martial arts was much more than physical conditioning. Every session became an opportunity for emotional reclamation—a chance to recover my breath, restore my boundaries, and reclaim my right to occupy space. Each time I stepped onto the mat, I was practicing deeper healing.

I have faced betrayal—infidelity, childhood abuse, and the subtle betrayals that come when others dismiss your pain or punish how you survive. These events don’t simply cause emotional scars; they shape your nervous system, erode trust, and make you doubt your own worth.

What kept me returning, even when avoidance was easier, was the realization that healing is a discipline, not a singular victory. Just as martial arts require regular practice, so does trauma recovery. You keep training, breathing, and showing up. Gradually, the old triggers become less intense and the alarms quieter. What once felt insurmountable becomes routine.

Over time, showing up evolves from an act of courage to a habit of self-respect, gentle persistence to face difficulty and reclaim peace with each effort.

The Meaning of Trauma-Informed Strength

I came to understand that being trauma-informed means recognizing true strength comes not from denying wounds, but from honoring them and consistently choosing to show up for yourself.

Healing is an ongoing process that involves not allowing past experiences to determine future outcomes.

In reclaiming my ground, I discovered that true resilience is choosing not to disappear, but to stand fully present—brave enough to be seen, strong enough to belong to myself.

Let your own healing journey become an act of courage and self-respect—show up for yourself, honor your story, and keep stepping onto the mat.

押忍 Osu Warriors! (Japanese: “I acknowledge this moment and will remember these lessons”)