Story Time: When Karate Became This Little Girl's Dream (and Reality)

Let me take you back in time, if you will, to when I was just a little girl of seven. I was a quiet child, the kind who felt most comfortable in her own little bubble. In public, shyness clung to me like a shadow. You could usually find me with my nose buried in a book, I absolutely loved to read, getting lost in fantastical worlds and exciting adventures. But behind the walls of our home, it was a different story! That quiet exterior would melt away, and the energy inside me was… well, let's just say it was wild! Picture a tiny little girl, fearlessly scaling to the very top of our swing set, a little adventurer in my own backyard. It was like this secret source inside me, a vibrant spark just waiting for the right outlet, even though my shyness kept it mostly contained when I was out in the world. And back then, a good 38 years ago (yes, you read that right!), school playgrounds could be a bit of a wild west. Bullies seemed to roam freely, and little shrinking violets like me were easy targets.

My dad, you see, had a real love for martial arts. As far back as I can remember, we would watch martial arts movies together. It was the height of the 80s, after all, a golden era for those kinds of films! He saw my quiet nature in public, my love for stories, but he also witnessed the boundless energy that would erupt at home, that little climber on top of the swings. Perhaps he saw in karate a way to bridge those two parts of me, to channel that inner vibrancy into something focused and empowering. So, with gentle encouragement, he signed me up for karate.

Stepping into the dojo for the first time was a little daunting, a new world of crisp white gis and the focused energy of the other students. But there was also a quiet excitement. Karate wasn't just about the physical movements; it was about finding a way to channel that inner energy, to learn focus and discipline in a way that felt both challenging and strangely calming. For a little girl who often felt lost in the noise, it offered a sense of quiet purpose.

I remember the small victories, the gradual understanding of a new stance, the first time a block felt solid. It was a slow, steady process of building not just physical strength, but a quiet inner resilience. I was even close to achieving my first belt, a tangible symbol of that effort, a little glimmer of accomplishment for someone who often felt unseen.

But life, as it often does, has its unexpected turns. Just as that first milestone felt within reach, our kind Sensei made the difficult decision to relocate his school. My early karate journey, so promising and gentle, came to an unexpected pause. There was a quiet sadness, a sense of a budding dream put on hold.

It took many years before I would find my way back to the world of martial arts, eventually discovering the strength and discipline of Kyokushin. But the gentle lessons learned in that first dojo, the underlying philosophy of respect and perseverance, stayed with me in subtle ways. Even though shyness remained a part of me well into adulthood, something had shifted within. Karate, even in that short time, had given me a quiet awareness of my own strength, a sense of self-defense that wasn't about aggression, but about inner fortitude. I found I could stand a little taller, not in a boastful way, but with a quiet confidence. And when I saw injustice, a flicker of that early training would remind me to speak up, not loudly, but with a firm and gentle conviction. The focus I learned, the quiet discipline of movement, became tools that helped me navigate life's challenges with a little more steadiness.

Looking back now, I see that my dad’s gentle nudge towards karate was more than just an activity. It was a quiet offering of tools for life. And if you, as a parent, are observing your own child, perhaps a little quiet one with a hidden spark, maybe they're shy in public but a whirlwind at home, climbing to the highest reaches, and are searching for something that can nurture both their energy and their inner strength, consider Kyokushin Kenbukai. Especially exploring a school like Centres Ray Cormier Kyokushin could be a truly wonderful and lasting gift. It’s not just about learning a sport; it’s about gently cultivating focus, respect, resilience, and an inner knowing of their own strength, lessons that will quietly empower them in all aspects of their lives. It might just be the gentle push they need to find their voice and stand with a quiet strength in their own corner of the world.

Note: For those reading Lucie's story, her journey with Kyokushin has been rekindled. She has been a dedicated student at Centres Ray Cormier Kyokushin since November 2023 and is enthusiastically embracing this new chapter in her Kyokushin Kenbukai training. It seems the dream lives on and the lessons learned long ago are finding new roots and blossoming once again!

Little girl's dream