I am not one to see life through a “woman lens”. Some people seem to do it all the time, filtering their individual identity throughout their gender, adjusting their perception of society and the world at large according to their sex chromosomes. I always thought that looks exhausting and introduces unnecessary noise, division and conflict. I can honestly say that most of the time, I do not think of myself as a woman, but simply as a person.

There is one instance, though, where I am usually reminded that my gender does make a difference, that having those two X chromosomes can alter my experience in a very clear way. Of course, I mean when I am doing Jiu-Jitsu.

To begin with, this is a very male dominated combat sport, which becomes evident just by stepping into a BJJ gym or looking at the group pictures of seminars and training camps. It’s usually like 80-90% men in most parts of the world.

Visiting the guys from Renzo Gracie Xalapa (my hometown), an all-male team (so far!).

Why? Perhaps because rolling around on the floor with a bunch of sweaty dudes is not considered the most feminine thing to do (and boy, I should know it can look completely unappealing a priori). Yet, there is an ever growing number of women taking part on it.

This is what BJJ feels like for me, from my own feminine perspective:

The strength difference is real.

One of the main selling points of BJJ is that it is a martial art that has been adapted to rely in leverage, angles and technique rather than sheer strength so that a weaker opponent can take on a stronger one. However, unless your skills are superior to those of your opponent, the strongest person will always have the advantage.

For a woman, this means that unless you are one of those 5’8, 155 pounds amazons like Holly Holm, odds are that you will be outsized by most of your opponents (in regular training) by a good 25 to 50 pounds (~12 to 25 kg). Even as a man, if you have ever tried to escape the mount or side control of someone who has 20+ kg on you, surely you know what I am talking about.

Things become a lot more challenging when there is a size disadvantage. That, not to mention that bigger guys can do stuff like literally pick you up in the air and just put you down on the mat with them on top (like one of the bigger guys in the picture above did to me after I went for a judo throw), or just stand up Gaby Garcia-style with you dangling there when you put them in a triangle or closed guard, to shake you off.

However, this handicap comes with a positive side, which is:

You are forced to develop superior/cleaner technique.

Otherwise things just never work and you will feel frustrated and helpless most of the time.

However, when you do not have the option to just bench-press someone off you, you find yourself in the urgent need to learn how to escape by moving your hips, framing or controlling your opponent’s limbs to unbalance them.

Something that I have noticed lately, is that I have been made aware of the importance of timing. Lots of the things that I used to think did not work, now I have realized that actually do if you time them right. Scissor sweep, flower sweep, and mount escapes that I thought would never work on someone bigger, have been possible whenever I pick the right grips and break their posture and balance. I think I would have taken longer to get this fine-tuning if I could just use my superior strength to force people into the positions I wanted – but this is not Jiu-Jitsu!

Also, I have learned to be sneaky. Someone says that you might not be the strongest, or the best, but no one can prevent you from being the sneakiest. This is reflected by the submissions that I get consistently: Ezekiel choke, baseball bat choke, or stuff that I set up by pretending I am going for something else (eg. Triangle choke by doing a fake hip-bump first to get the opponent to post their arm on the mat).

The "Goldie-locks" roll: not too soft, and not too hard.

While I am lucky enough that 80% of the guys in my team are considerate and skilled enough to roll with women with enough strength to provide a competitive roll without completely smashing us, I have met guys who just cannot get their calibration right.

That goes for both extremes: from the guys who mercilessly crush you and even do asshole moves like grinding their elbows on your face or applying calf slicers just to torture you, to the guys who seem to think you are some kind of fragile doll made of glass, put zero pressure, don not secure submissions and are even worried about accidentally pulling your hair. Just roll, man! If I am here and not in a women-only class, it means that I am willing to cope with your power as long as you do not abuse it.

However, the consequence of this adjustment that men do when rolling with women is that:

You are never 100% sure about your progress.

Unless you consistently roll with women, whenever you have a good roll it is difficult to determine whether you are objectively getting better or the guy just let you work a bit more by not resisting as much as he could.

Like one of the purple belts of my team jokingly said to me once: “You are getting better! Now I need to use 10% of my power instead of just 5%” (then I almost caught him with a triangle so he corrected himself “OK, 15%”).

Funnily enough, I find that a good way to unleash people’s real power is to catch them with a tight submission. Whenever I have managed to get something on a higher belt, they immediately retaliate by upping their intensity in a way that lets you experience what a hard roll feels more like with them.

Also, there is this annoying feeling – for me, at least– that I have a default excuse for being sucky. After getting beaten up, it is tempting to let that little slithering voice in the back of my mind whisper “Well of course! After all, he’s a guy and he’s stronger! It is not your fault, you are just fighting at a clear disadvantage”; as you can imagine, this kind of mindset can be very dangerous for your progress!

You might be tricked into thinking it is OK to become stagnant. After all, you are the weaker person! Guys have it a lot harder in this sense: if you are getting your butt kicked by everyone consistently, there is no other side to it, you just suck (and need to get better ASAP).

I would really like to know your opinion on this:

As a woman, do you agree with my points, or have other female-related situations that you would like to add to these?

As a man, do you behave differently when training with women? What is your take on it?

Cheers,

Irime