Why Retiring Was the Hardest and Best Decision I Ever Made
There is a moment in every athlete’s career when the thought creeps in: What happens when I stop competing? For years, I avoided that question, holding tightly to my identity as an athlete, a competitor, a fighter. Jiu jitsu wasn’t just something I did. It was who I was. And for a long time, it felt like the only version of me that mattered.
But here is the thing about being an athlete: your body does not ignore the grind, and your mind does not forget the pressure. I loved competing, but over time, I noticed a shift. What had once felt like an exciting challenge began to feel like a constant battle to prove my worth—to myself, to others, to this version of me I thought I had to be. That is when I knew I needed to redefine what jiu jitsu and life meant to me.
The Fear of Letting Go
Retirement wasn’t a decision I made lightly. In fact, it felt like a betrayal. I thought, If I’m not competing, what do I have to show for my years of training? What do I say when people ask about my next tournament? The idea of stepping away from competition felt like losing a part of myself, as if all the hours I spent on the mats would suddenly mean nothing.
What I didn’t realize then was that my value as an athlete and as a person was never tied to the medals I won or the matches I fought. It was tied to the resilience, discipline, and love I had developed for the sport and myself along the way. But I couldn’t see that until I allowed myself to step back.
Redefining My Identity
The hardest part of retirement wasn’t giving up competition. It was figuring out who I was without it. I had spent so many years training for the next big event, pushing through the mental and physical toll, and defining success by what happened on the mats. When that structure was gone, I felt adrift.
But here is what I discovered: stepping away gave me space to explore other parts of myself that had been waiting in the wings. I poured my energy into my nonprofit, #SubmitTheStigma, creating conversations about mental health in combat sports. I returned to school to pursue a career in mental performance consulting, finding new ways to connect with athletes and help them navigate their own journeys. And most importantly, I rediscovered what I loved about jiu jitsu—not the medals or the wins, but the community, the challenge, and the joy of the art itself.
The Best Decision I Ever Made
Retiring from competition wasn’t the end of my journey as an athlete. It was the beginning of a new chapter. One where I could take everything I learned on the mats and use it to help others. It allowed me to live my values of authenticity, growth, and connection in ways I never imagined.
To anyone who is grappling with the idea of stepping away from competition: you’re not losing anything. You are making space for the person you are becoming. It is okay to grieve the chapter that is ending, but do not forget to celebrate the one that is beginning.
You are more than the medals you have won. You are more than the title of “competitor.” You are all the lessons, relationships, and experiences you have built along the way. And when you let go of the need to prove yourself, you will find the freedom to grow into the next version of you. One that is just as powerful, just as resilient, and just as worthy.
Where I Am Now
These days, I still spend time on the mats, but it is different. I am not chasing a podium or proving my place. I am helping others—teammates, clients, and even myself—find joy in the process. Jiu jitsu will always be a part of my life, but now it is part of a much bigger picture. And honestly, that is the best gift I could have given myself.
If you are facing your own transition, know this: it is okay to feel scared, lost, or uncertain. Change isn’t easy, but it is where growth lives. And you do not have to navigate it alone. Whether you are retiring, reinventing yourself, or simply figuring out what is next, I am here to remind you: you are more than ready for this.
