In the 7th grade. I did not just have a dream , I had a fire . my goal was simple : the black belt I proud my blood , sweat , and tears into the dojo unit my name and face become a regular sight in the local newspaper. But the hardest blows didn't come from my opponents - they came from the people I trusted most .
First , it was my brother , who tore my first hard-earnd certificate into pieces in a fit of rage Than it was my friends, whose betrayal and a single 'no 'mad me miss the most crucial match of My Life. My wings were clipped by my own world. Now at 20, I am surrounded by next books , responsibilities, and the ticking clock.
Everyone say it's too late. But every time I look at my old , fadeg karate gi🥋, idealised one thing : a true fighter dose not lose when she falls ; she lose when she refuses to get back up .
This is my journey back to the mat. This is for the friends who doubted me, the family that broke me, and the dream that refused to die.my black belt is still waiting, and this time , I'm not stopping....