The Paradox of BJJ Humility: Learning to Fail Without Being a Failure (2025)

After class the other day, a black belt I respect approached me: “Your cardio looked good out there today.”

It should have been a nice moment. Instead, what came out was: “Thanks, but I wish I was faster.”

After leaving the gym, as I was reflecting on the workout – what went well and where I felt needed improvement – I replayed this conversation back over in my mind. Something felt off—not because of what he said, but because of what my moment of “BJJ humility” showed me about how I handle my own progress.

The Exchange That Started It All

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“Pretty good,” I replied.

“I noticed your cardio looked good out there today.”

There it was—a real compliment from someone whose opinion mattered to me.

But instead of just saying “thank you” and feeling good about it, I deflected:

“Thanks, I just sat out one round because I was losing my technique. I sure wish I was faster.”

“Remind me – how old are you?” he asked.

“Seventy.”

“You’re doing just fine.”

The Pattern Revealed

About four weeks earlier, another black belt training alongside me had said I was “so inspirational,” referring to my 70 years of age and commitment to training. This was in front of a group of other people whom I respected, and I felt a bit embarrassed.

So I said “thank you,” but then immediately added: “You know, because I’m retired, I have the time to show up, but you younger folks with work and kids have real challenges. If I were younger, I’d have a hard time doing this.”

Different response, same pattern: deflecting praise by explaining why it doesn’t really count.

Both exchanges—with training partners, not instructors—showed me something I bet a lot of us do. In both cases, I said “thank you” first, which felt like progress. But I couldn’t leave it there.

I had to add something to diminish it, or point out what I thought was wrong with me.

Why We Can’t Just Say Thank You

This automatic deflection serves several psychological functions:

Protection from vulnerability: Accepting a compliment fully makes us vulnerable. It means acknowledging that we’re worthy of praise.

Imposter syndrome: Deep down, we might feel like we don’t deserve the praise, that the person doesn’t really understand our limitations.

Perfectionist thinking: If we’re not perfect, then any compliment feels incomplete or unearned.

At 70, starting BJJ later in life, there’s always this voice asking whether I really belong on the mat, whether my progress counts or if people are just being nice to the old guy.

The BJJ Humility Culture

This pattern isn’t unique to me—it’s deeply embedded in BJJ culture. Just the other day, a blue belt colleague struggling with a new technique said, “I’m the worst blue belt in the school.” Here’s someone who has earned his blue belt, who really grasps techniques once he learns them (even if he’s slower to pick up new ones initially), but his immediate response to difficulty was to label himself as “the worst.”

This is BJJ’s humility paradox in action. The art teaches us good lessons about ego and failure, but sometimes we take those lessons too far. We learn to say “I’m terrible” as a badge of humility, as if acknowledging our struggles makes us better students. Yet there are many powerful reasons why Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu transforms people in positive ways, which makes this self-critical culture all the more puzzling. But there’s a big difference between:

• “I’m struggling with this technique” (healthy assessment)
  
• “I’m the worst blue belt in the school” (identity fusion with failure)
  

Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu shows us our mental patterns with startling clarity. The mat doesn’t lie about our mental habits—it shows us exactly how we handle progress, setbacks, and our own abilities. But it also shows us how we can turn temporary struggles into permanent labels about ourselves.

A white belt might successfully escape side control for the first time, then immediately focus on getting swept afterward. A blue belt might hit a smooth transition they’ve been working on for months, then beat themselves up for not finishing the submission.

The Trap of “I Wish I Was…”

That phrase—”I wish I was faster”—represents more than just goal-setting. It often comes from identifying with our current limits rather than seeing them as temporary. It’s not wrong to have goals, but when those desires immediately cancel out acknowledgment of current progress, they steal our satisfaction and motivation.

The difference is small but huge:

• “I wish I was faster” = I’m not good enough as I am right now
  
• “I’m working on developing more speed” = I have value now AND I’m growing
  

Consider the difference between:

• “Thank you for noticing my cardio improvement. My next goal is to work on speed.”
  
• “Thanks, but I wish I was faster.”
  

The first acknowledges the compliment and identifies future growth while keeping present worth. The second dismisses the compliment and focuses on what’s wrong—turning a learning goal into proof of current failure.

The Wisdom of “You’re Doing Just Fine”

When he said, “You’re doing just fine,” it hit me like a wake-up call. In that moment, I realized what I had just done—turned a real compliment into self-criticism. That simple statement wasn’t just reassurance; it snapped me out of an automatic pattern I didn’t even know I was in.

The shift was immediate and powerful. Here was someone looking at my training objectively, seeing progress worth mentioning, while I was busy focusing on what I thought was lacking. His reality check made me realize I’d done the same thing weeks earlier with the other black belt’s comment about being inspirational.

Interestingly, as I thought about this experience, I caught myself thinking: “It took him saying something to wake me up. If he hadn’t said anything, I might not have caught it. I should figure out a way to do that on my own”—and then I realized I was doing it again! Here I was, recognizing that outside perspective had helped me see a pattern, but instead of appreciating that insight, my mind immediately jumped to what I “should” be able to do better.

That’s how deep these habits go. Even while writing about the pattern, I fell into it. But catching it in real-time felt like progress—most people never notice these moments as they happen.

At 70, training BJJ consistently, working on cardio and technique, showing up to class, AND developing the awareness to catch self-defeating thought patterns—that IS doing just fine. More than fine, actually.

But our negative self-talk makes it incredibly difficult to sit with “just fine.” We want to be exceptional, to constantly prove our worth through achievement.

A few days after that conversation, in a totally unrelated event, my instructor sent me a YouTube video. It was Bernardo Faria responding to a 67-year-old blue belt who was losing motivation because younger, lower-ranked guys were always beating him easily.

Bernardo’s first words hit me: “First of all, I want to be like you.” He went on: “Realize you are 67 years old and rolling with 25 and 30-year-olds. Most people in their 60s are walking for exercise, and you’re out there on the mats with people half your age. So celebrate that!”

Here was one of the best grapplers in the world—a multiple-time world champion—saying he wanted to be like a struggling blue belt. Not because of technique or titles, but because of something much simpler: showing up at 67.

This flipped the whole narrative. Instead of focusing on what this 67-year-old couldn’t do compared to younger guys, Bernardo celebrated what he was doing that 99% of people his age weren’t even attempting.

Watch Bernardo Faria’s full response on YouTube –Why “Winning” in the Gym is Ruining Your BJJ (Bernardo Faria’s Secret for Older Grapplers).

The Practice of Acceptance

Learning to accept compliments—really accept them—is a practice. Like developing a proper BJJ warmup routine, it requires repetition and patience.

Here’s what I’m trying to work on:

Just say “Thank you”: Before adding anything else, say “thank you” and stop. Let the compliment sit there for a second.

Notice when it happens: Pay attention to how fast my mind jumps to criticism after getting praise.

Think about goals differently: Instead of seeing what I want to improve as proof that I’m not good enough now, see it as building on progress I’ve already made.

Finding the Balance

The challenge is figuring out how to be happy with where I am while still wanting to get better. It’s not about getting lazy—it’s about not making my happiness depend on reaching some future version of myself. For older grapplers especially, finding this balance becomes crucial for long-term training success.

At 70, my cardio looking good during training is worth celebrating. My desire to be faster can coexist with that celebration without diminishing it. Both can be true: I’m making progress AND I have goals for further improvement.

When I let “I wish I was faster” cancel out “your cardio looked good today,” I was choosing to feel bad instead of good. I was making my happiness depend on some future state instead of acknowledging what’s happening right now.

The Practice Continues

I’m still working on this. Still catching myself pushing away compliments, still noticing how fast satisfaction turns into self-criticism. But that’s part of it—both the BJJ part and the life part.

The mat continues to be my teacher, showing me my patterns and giving me opportunities to practice new responses. Each compliment becomes a chance to pause, say thank you, and let it land.

Maybe that’s enough for now. Maybe “doing just fine” is actually doing quite well.