DucatiGirl
Bronze Member
Bit of a long post, my apologies, but I'm trying to be fair as possible. As many of you know, I've been trying to work with my MMA gym (where I started taking kickboxing classes to get over social anxiety with great success) to take BJJ lessons. My therapist is STOKED that I'm trying, and she thinks it's going to be great for me. The instructor is young, and male, but I built trust with him quickly, which is very unusual for me. I figured if I was going to take BJJ lessons, I could do so with him. I sent an email, and was very forthcoming -- I survived a sexual assault, I have PTSD in remission, and there is a remote possibility that things might get difficult for me, and I wanted to make sure that he knew there was that possibility, though chances are it'd be no big deal. I even volunteered to work with the other instructors and create a kind of class/orientation for working with survivors. He is very young, and I wanted to ensure that he understood -- the chances are very slim I'd have an issue, but I'd rather be honest and upfront. I also asked him personally, not as an instructor, because some people can't handle hearing about violence especially against women, and I don't want to make ANYONE uncomfortable.
It's been a 2.5 month ordeal. He said that I had to get a release from my therapist and that it was standard practice. The release he gave me was a full medical release that could only be signed by an MD -- first warning sign. Second warning sign was that the form was clearly not seen by an attorney, and therefore wasn't standard practice. Third warning, he lied to my face about not working with women solo at the remote location and that he'd only work at the main campus (I only could meet him at the main campus due to my schedule, so I let that one go curiously).
Needless to say, the longer this took, the more warning signs I started to see, and I started asking my friends if my paranoia was kicking in -- they're used to this, because I always ask for their opinion to make sure I'm not overreacting to anything. My friends got concerned, and started calling. They are nothing if not overprotective because I am an admitted doormat and get run over all the time. They're also very diligent: 36 gyms nationwide were anonymously polled, all said they'd never ask someone for an extra release for either assault or PTSD, 5 owners got mad about my treatment and demanded the name of the gym (which wasn't given out), and another offered me a month of free lessons twice a week, just to work on getting through the overwhelming problems of feeling choked, held, and grabbed from behind before he actually taught me anything -- just to make sure I was used to it and I wouldn't waste my money while just getting used to the feelings. Which, by the way, everyone has trouble with those feelings at first, and not just folks like me -- it's mentioned in almost every beginner's book.
Needless to say, I emailed my concerns to the instructor, pretty much saying "what in the world could possibly be taking so long, I feel very much singled out and a bit humiliated" and he immediately suspended my membership. I am still floored at the knee jerk reaction -- I even had a friend read over the email I sent him to make sure it wasn't inflammatory. I will be taking him up on his offer to cancel my membership but I have a meeting with the owners to discuss this treatment, and hopefully prevent another woman from dealing with it. It's still a VERY good gym, I would still encourage people to join, and I'd love to still be a member there. But after that treatment, it's clearly not the place for me.
Lest you think I'm giving up, I visited other BJJ gyms this weekend. At the first gym, the owner stood with me at the corner of the mat, and reassured my concerns at the sea of 30 bodies in front of me grappling, pointed out his wife, pointed out his son, then said point blank (direct quote) "It's been my honor to help military vets and abuse victims, and I've introduced them all to this sport, and it would be my honor to help you through this too. You can do this." Those words, and the kindness with which they were spoken, are seared into my memory.
The second gym I visited introduced me to the two women instructors on staff, who were incredibly reassuring, and have a women's only class that meets on Fridays. They were very warm, and said a lot of women work up to the co-ed classes, and not to worry.
The third gym I visited, the black belt admitted he didn't have any experience teaching someone with PTSD. A purple belt (mid level) came over, introduced himself, apologized for overhearing, said in a very easy tone, "I have PTSD too. I'd be happy to help you get to the point where you can join us in group lessons." The black belt then asked if it was okay if, once I was comfortable, he could come observe the lessons so that he could learn how best to help someone going forward. I was floored -- an expert admitted that he could learn from a purple belt and a noob.
Morals of the story:
1. Strength and courage are sometimes hard to find as a survivor, but I will fight this stigma with all my strength and courage as both a survivor of rape and as a person with PTSD.
2. Standing up for yourself isn't as hard as I thought.
3. There are always options, even if you think it's hopeless. There are good people out there. Good will always outweigh evil, no matter how bleak it seems.
4. I have awesome friends.
5. And I have a hard choice before me, but with those three options, how can I possibly go wrong?
It's been a 2.5 month ordeal. He said that I had to get a release from my therapist and that it was standard practice. The release he gave me was a full medical release that could only be signed by an MD -- first warning sign. Second warning sign was that the form was clearly not seen by an attorney, and therefore wasn't standard practice. Third warning, he lied to my face about not working with women solo at the remote location and that he'd only work at the main campus (I only could meet him at the main campus due to my schedule, so I let that one go curiously).
Needless to say, the longer this took, the more warning signs I started to see, and I started asking my friends if my paranoia was kicking in -- they're used to this, because I always ask for their opinion to make sure I'm not overreacting to anything. My friends got concerned, and started calling. They are nothing if not overprotective because I am an admitted doormat and get run over all the time. They're also very diligent: 36 gyms nationwide were anonymously polled, all said they'd never ask someone for an extra release for either assault or PTSD, 5 owners got mad about my treatment and demanded the name of the gym (which wasn't given out), and another offered me a month of free lessons twice a week, just to work on getting through the overwhelming problems of feeling choked, held, and grabbed from behind before he actually taught me anything -- just to make sure I was used to it and I wouldn't waste my money while just getting used to the feelings. Which, by the way, everyone has trouble with those feelings at first, and not just folks like me -- it's mentioned in almost every beginner's book.
Needless to say, I emailed my concerns to the instructor, pretty much saying "what in the world could possibly be taking so long, I feel very much singled out and a bit humiliated" and he immediately suspended my membership. I am still floored at the knee jerk reaction -- I even had a friend read over the email I sent him to make sure it wasn't inflammatory. I will be taking him up on his offer to cancel my membership but I have a meeting with the owners to discuss this treatment, and hopefully prevent another woman from dealing with it. It's still a VERY good gym, I would still encourage people to join, and I'd love to still be a member there. But after that treatment, it's clearly not the place for me.
Lest you think I'm giving up, I visited other BJJ gyms this weekend. At the first gym, the owner stood with me at the corner of the mat, and reassured my concerns at the sea of 30 bodies in front of me grappling, pointed out his wife, pointed out his son, then said point blank (direct quote) "It's been my honor to help military vets and abuse victims, and I've introduced them all to this sport, and it would be my honor to help you through this too. You can do this." Those words, and the kindness with which they were spoken, are seared into my memory.
The second gym I visited introduced me to the two women instructors on staff, who were incredibly reassuring, and have a women's only class that meets on Fridays. They were very warm, and said a lot of women work up to the co-ed classes, and not to worry.
The third gym I visited, the black belt admitted he didn't have any experience teaching someone with PTSD. A purple belt (mid level) came over, introduced himself, apologized for overhearing, said in a very easy tone, "I have PTSD too. I'd be happy to help you get to the point where you can join us in group lessons." The black belt then asked if it was okay if, once I was comfortable, he could come observe the lessons so that he could learn how best to help someone going forward. I was floored -- an expert admitted that he could learn from a purple belt and a noob.
Morals of the story:
1. Strength and courage are sometimes hard to find as a survivor, but I will fight this stigma with all my strength and courage as both a survivor of rape and as a person with PTSD.
2. Standing up for yourself isn't as hard as I thought.
3. There are always options, even if you think it's hopeless. There are good people out there. Good will always outweigh evil, no matter how bleak it seems.
4. I have awesome friends.
5. And I have a hard choice before me, but with those three options, how can I possibly go wrong?
