Crying in Muay Thai Training: It Happens

Today, I had one of those sparring sessions where I got so frustrated that I started crying. 

I wasn’t hurt or upset, and I didn’t have to stop training. Tears just seemed to come out of nowhere as I drew breath in between rounds. This has happened to me several times before, and each time, it’s been uncomfortable to deal with.

This sparring session was a particularly difficult one, as the partner I was working with presented some frustrating problems for me. He alternated between pummelling me and running away, and I struggled to close the gap and counter. He also danced around and mocked me, sometimes either putting his hands down completely or just stopping and guarding up as if to say ‘I’ll give you a chance to hit me now’. These are things that my trainers or other sparring partners will often do in a playful way, but this felt somehow different. Getting hit is never a problem for me as long as there’s control, but I do become irked when men with a significant size advantage overpower me and then start showboating. I don’t want my sparring partners to patronise me, go easy on me, or treat me any differently because of my gender. But I do prefer for them to give me some respect and the chance to learn, so that there’s a mutual exchange. On this day, that wasn’t the case, and it brought my emotions closer to the surface than usual.

The problem with this training session wasn’t really the sparring itself, but the feelings it drew out of me.  

It was the frustration of not being able to execute the techniques that I wanted to, along with the fact that I felt like my opponent wasn’t respecting me as a worthy sparring partner, and the pressure of having various trainers watching and shouting at me at the same time. Other times, I’ve been pushed to tears in other ways — by repeatedly being overpowered and worn down in sparring, clinching or padwork, or simply from pure exhaustion. Sometimes, it’s a wave of release that comes completely by surprise during a relentless training schedule. In my first few fights, I also cried immediately after stepping out of the ring, regardless of the result. Whatever it was on this day, I let it get the better of me, and came out of that session with a nice purple bruise on my left cheek to show for it. In hingsight, my sparring partner probably wasn’t intentionally disrespecting me at all, and was perhaps just doing what he would normally do with anyone else. But my insecurities were heightened, and as a result, I became frustrated to the point of tears. It’s something that I need to work through. 

I don’t react well under pressure, and I need to train myself out of that. I’ll often allow myself to be backed onto the ropes or step out without following up on combinations, and those are other issues I also need to fix. But it’s a process to train yourself out of responses that seem to be hard-wired into you, which takes time, practice, and conditioning. This reaction is the same. It’s just a normal, involuntary response from my body that I should recognise. Even if my ego would rather ignore it and continue training. 

On the occasions that my male sparring partners or trainers have witnessed these breaking points, they’ve mostly been at a loss for what to do. They’ll usually respond by frantically apologising and backing off, and while I completely understand why, I’d rather they didn’t. I’d usually prefer to push through and keep training, but this will differ from time to time and person to person. Personally, I’d much rather have those awkward moments and make everyone in the gym feel a little uncomfortable than be patronised, ignored or made to feel worse. Making a big deal out of it makes me feel vulnerable, which is the opposite of how I want to feel or to appear to others. I also don’t want my training partners to assume that the tears mean that I want to stop training, or that I’m ‘not cut out for it’. They don’t. Crying doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m upset or hurt, and it certainly doesn’t make me weak. It’s just part of pushing myself through emotional barriers in training, which is a very personal experience and not something I want to invite others into (at least, not in the moment). But as uncomfortable as it is, I know that experiencing it, acknowledging it and learning how to deal with it will make me better equipped to cope with these uncomfortable moments in the future. 

At the same time, we shouldn’t encourage fighters to always ignore tears or treat them as a sign of weakness. While pushing through pain is glorified in sport and certainly a requirement at times in combat sports, gym cultures in which pain and discomfort are routinely ignored can result in real harm to athletes. If you notice your student or training partner tearing up, check in to ask how they are and what they need. This doesn’t have to mean stopping training (depending on the situation). It can be as simple as a brief exchange of words in the moment, or a nod between training partners who are particularly attuned to each other.

Sylvie von Duuglas-Ittu has written about crying in Muay Thai training and the gender dynamic of this experience in a post which also includes quotes from other fighters on how they’ve dealt with it.

This is where men have an advantage over women: from a very early age boys are taught to hide their emotions, not to show when it hurts. Babies can cry but that shit stops at a certain age when young boys are taught what it means to perform their gender. Little girls are taught the opposite. We’re taught to show our pain and wear our emotions at the surface and if whoever is hurting us doesn’t stop when we show them that it hurts is an asshole. The onus is on the jerk who doesn’t know better than to hit or tease a girl. This isn’t so with men. If you show that you’re hurt, you’re weak. Period. As fighters, as persons who are learning to overcome every pain that we’ve stitched into ourselves over the course of our lifetimes, women have to – in this one way – move toward the path that is taught to men. (Don’t misunderstand: men do cry too. Watch any given episode of The Ultimate Fighter for a male tear-fest.)

Sylvie von Duuglas-Ittu – ‘There Is Crying in Muay Thai – Emotional Training’

Parts of training and fighting can feel isolating at times, and for many of us, this is one of them. But crying in training is not abnormal or shameful, nor is it limited by gender. There are plenty of men who are just as familiar with this experience. Discussing it openly not only helps to dispel the stigma, but also allows us, and our training partners, to understand how to deal with it when it happens in the gym.

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