Trusting the Process When It Pushes Back
Some students walk into Taekwondo curious.
Some walk in unsure.
And some walk in very certain about who they are and what they want.
Jacqui was the third.
From the beginning, she knew herself well. She loved poomsae. She came from a background in dance and gymnastics, and it showed immediately. Her body awareness was exceptional. Control. Balance. Flexibility. Power without force. Every movement carried intention.
She was also very clear about one thing.
She was not interested in sparring.
She was open to learning. She was respectful. But sparring was not where she saw herself. Her goal was competition poomsae, and in her mind, she already understood where her strengths lived.
And to be fair, she wasn’t wrong.
Seeing Potential Beyond Preference
As I watched Jacqui train, I saw more than technical skill. I saw a strong mind-body connection. She could feel movement and adjust in real time. She understood distance, timing, and control intuitively. She generated power without forcing it.
Those qualities translate everywhere in Taekwondo.
So slowly and intentionally, I began introducing sparring into her training. Not to change who she was. Not to pull her away from poomsae. But to expand what she believed she was capable of.
We approached it lightly. Private lessons mixed with laughter and hard work. Moments of frustration followed by moments of surprise. She began to enjoy parts of it, even if she would never say that out loud.
The First Test of Trust
Then a tournament came up.
Somewhat hesitantly, Jacqui agreed to spar.
At the time, she was an orange belt. Her opponent was a higher belt. It was intimidating. Anyone in her position would have felt it.
But she didn’t show it.
She trusted the work.
All the sore muscles.
The bruises.
The sessions where she could barely catch her breath.
They were about to be tested.
Her match was beautiful.
She moved with intelligence. Setting up feints. Switching stances. Reading openings. Defense and offense flowing together instead of colliding. The match went into sudden-death overtime. Next point wins.
The crowd was loud.
The pressure was real.
Every eye was on the ring.
Jacqui looked calm. Focused. Almost still.
A high roundhouse came in. She blocked it and, without hesitation, countered with a roundhouse just under the attacking leg. Clean contact. Chest protector. Point scored.
Match over.
First place in sparring.
Earlier that day, she had stepped into the ring for poomsae competition and earned second place.
Two events. Two medals. One important lesson.
Hard work can expand you beyond the version of yourself you thought was fixed.
When the Process Gets Uncomfortable Again
Time passed. Jacqui had stepped away from training for a while, then returned. This time, she was hungry. Focused. She wanted that first-place poomsae finish.
I suggested sparring again.
She was open to it.
Then, during practice, she took a hard roundhouse from Instructor Victoria. The kind that knocks the wind out of you and reminds you that sparring is very real.
She looked at me and said,
“Nope. I am not sparring.”
I reminded her to trust the process.
Even as stubborn as she is, she understood what the work required. And more importantly, she remembered what it had given her before.
She kept training.
Trust Under Pressure
The next tournament arrived. Jacqui was now a blue belt. Her sparring opponent was a black belt.
Once again, she didn’t flinch.
I was in her corner. After the first round, I went to tell her the score. She stopped me.
“No. I don’t want to know. I just need to go out there and do it.”
She fought the second round as if she were behind. Pressing forward. Outworking. Refusing to be passive. She won the round convincingly.
She was ready for overtime. Mentally locked in. Championship mode.
What she didn’t know was that she had already won the first round fifteen to five.
The match ended.
First place in sparring. Again.
And once again, second place in poomsae.
Later, she reviewed the footage of her poomsae performance. She saw the mistakes. The areas to improve. She looked at me and said that one day, she would get that first-place poomsae finish.
Knowing Jacqui and how stubborn she can be, I believe her.
What This Story Is Really About
Jacqui’s story is not about medals or podiums.
It is about what happens when someone allows the process to challenge their self-image without breaking it.
Taekwondo has a way of doing that.
It asks you to trust the work.
Even when it is uncomfortable.
Especially when it pushes back.
Sometimes the version of yourself you are protecting is not the strongest version yet.
And growth begins the moment you are willing to test that.
Reflection Question
Where in your training or life are you being asked to trust the process, even though it feels uncomfortable?
Taekwondo does not force growth. It invites it.
It challenges what you believe about yourself, not to tear you down, but to reveal what else is possible. When students are willing to trust the process, even when it pushes back, they discover strength they did not know they had.
At TVMA Academy, we believe in guiding students through those moments with patience, honesty, and respect. Because the goal is not to create a different version of someone.
It is to help them become a stronger one.
Frequently Asked Questions
Q: What does “trusting the process” mean in Taekwondo?
A: It means committing to consistent training even when progress feels uncomfortable or uncertain, trusting that effort will lead to growth.
Q: Why does Taekwondo push students outside their comfort zone?
A: Growth happens when students are gently challenged beyond what feels familiar, helping them discover new capabilities.
Q: Is sparring required to grow in Taekwondo?
A: Sparring is one of many tools used to build timing, confidence, and adaptability. Growth comes from exposure to challenge, not avoidance of it.
Q: How does competition help students develop mentally?
A: Competition teaches focus, resilience, emotional control, and trust in preparation under pressure
