I didn’t stop being afraid. The fear changed shape.

Previously, when I was bored and depressed at night, I watched YouTube videos about Mixed Martial Arts. I watched the cool battles between the fighters on screen, and I admired the willpower of the fighters.

I would worry that training in MMA might be too demanding on my body in my thirties. So, the idea of learning martial arts stayed in my mind for some time.

I saw Miyamoto Musashi’s cool battle scenes in the Japanese manga ‘Vagabond’. That elegant swordsmanship and calm mindset inspired me to think I could train in kendo instead of MMA.

Kendo didn’t go well at first.

You’re supposed to shout — kiai — to lift your own spirit and press on your opponent. But I’m a shy person. Shouting like that felt wrong. I kept thinking everyone was looking at me, and there was a pressure I couldn’t name.

In practice matches it was worse. I didn’t know where to attack. I couldn’t react to what came at me. Most of the time I was just the one getting hit.

Compared to people who started around the same time as me, or after me, I was clearly worse. That left a kind of defeat sitting in me.

The fear I felt on my first day in the dojo was about not knowing what would happen. This was different. Being behind the others bothered me more.

A lot of weeks I wanted to use rest as an excuse to skip the one practice I had. Because going meant facing how far behind I was.

But I’m glad that after a week off, I always went back the next week. I knew that if I stayed away long enough, I’d keep finding more reasons not to go, and eventually I’d quit.

Perhaps I was able to walk this path because I knew from the beginning that it wouldn’t be an easy one.

Although I am still bothered by being behind, I have been training in kendo for three years. Despite only having two hours of practice once a week, I’m very glad that I haven’t given up through these past few years.

Although I haven’t achieved anything remarkable yet, every small step I take brings me a small sense of accomplishment. It might not look like much to anyone else, but these small, consistent efforts over the years can give a lot of confidence to my past self who was feeling down.

Originally afraid of shouting in front of everyone, I am now gradually looking forward to the moment when I can show “kiai” in the dojo.