Finding your voice in kickboxing

Two days ago I was in a kickboxing class with a multitude of women: young, old, different ethnicities, pregnant, tall, short, thin, stocky.  Everyone dressed in their comfy clothes for 45 minutes of getting our butts handed to us by the peppy instructor who is actually really awesome.  Music is intense, with strong beats encourages us to keep going when we really want to quit.  But the room is quiet otherwise, and this is what stands out to me.

Years ago, I trained in taekwondo under an amazing master, who I always refer to as Sabumnim (Korean for master).  Before you entered group classes, Sabumnim spent three individual sessions teaching you the basic kicks and punches, as well as language necessary to participate well in class.  One of my first lessons was the “kihap”, and it startled me as to the strength with which Sabumnim communicated.  The kihap is the sound made when striking.  It felt awkward and weird to be so LOUD.  Sabumnim touched my stomach lightly, told me to yell from there, and encouraged me until I was so loud I was hoarse.  Honestly, it felt embarrassing to be that loud. Taking up that much space in the room and announcing my presence felt like putting on shoes a size too small.  But you know why he said it was so important?

All your power in your strike comes from your kihap.

Of course, I was skeptical.  A voice and muscles are totally separate, right?  But the more I trained, the more this statement became reality.  When our strikes were off and sloppy, he would yell for us to kihap and we would, and immediately our strikes were strong and sharp.  There is something about the release from both the voice and the body that combines into something powerful and effective.  

For a woman who struggled with voice personally, as well as living in a society where my female voice was discouraged, this was like a lightning bolt to my system. 

Kickboxing is awesome because I get out a lot of my extra energy and unnecessary anxiety that builds up throughout the day.  Wednesdays I am a much better mom to my kids and woman to society because of this class.  Maybe it is because I can take up space and move with solidity around others.  But I wonder how much better it would be if the whole class was shouting as well as striking, and what kind of women would walk out of the studio into this world that desperately needs the feminine voice for balance.   Voices that come from a point of grounded power instead of desperation to be heard are likely more effective, as it is rooted in the belief that our voices matter instead of working so hard to get others to believe our voices matter. 

Your voice matters.  Speak loudly. Take up space.  Find power in your kihap.