Tae Kwon Do Whores (Hooers)

The bubble of illusion that I have been living in for the past five or six  years has been burst.  Annihilated.  It doesn’t take much to annihilate  a bubble, so it was probably over kill.  And anyone who would kill a bubble, well, they’re just bubble killers.

There are many things I love in life.  Many things I am passionate about.  One of them is martial arts in general.  Though I am a member of the Tae Kwon Do family I believe the proper use of martial arts is a benefit to any and every one who studies, and practices, and teaches it.  After reaching goals of my own in TKD I entered in to the world of teaching.  I was, am, a sabumnim.  My goals became existential, pertaining to the existence of others goals.

I teach.

I love it.  I love(d) the students.  In every student who walked in my door and wanted to learn, I wanted to give to them, teach them.  Help them become who they wanted to be.

One of my fondest memories of teaching is the night three young high school girls walked in to my dojang.  I was impressed with their curiosity, their self challenge, their bravery to walk in to something and someplace they knew little about but wanted to try.  I remember that night so well because these girls stayed.  They stayed in my life.  I have watched them grow in to wonderful young women.  Strong.  Independent.  Intelligent.  Good.  World changers.

Yes, yes, yes.   These girls are my friends.

I have lived under this false pretense that they built around me.  They loved me.  They respected me.   They thought I was awesome.

LIES!   That’s right.  I found out tonight what really happened and where their affections lie.

I am calling them out.  Because I now know the truth.  And here it is….

My master instructor (sabunim) was teaching my class for me.  I respect him.  I am in awe of his abilities.  I love him (don’t worry David is in total agreement with this in the TKD sense).  I would, and do, compare any thing I have seen in the TKD world with what I have learned from him, and watched him do.  So of course I trusted him to teach my class.  And teach it well.


So many years later I learn the truth.

After that first class where the master taught for me he took aside the three young students and worked with them.  Encouraged them.  Taught them.  He even got his blood on one of their dobaks.  And what does she say?  She will never wash her dobak again.  They loved him.  He is the greatest.  They can not believe how “awesome”  (this is an actual quote) he was to them.  How “awesome” he was in teaching them.  How awesome he was in his abilities.  They left that class with stars in their eyes for him.

Hold on…. my heart is in a spasm right now.

Yes, betrayed.  Hence the title of the blog.

Trust me, I know my skills and abilities.  I certainly don’t compare to his.  I know that.

But I didn’t know THEY KNEW THAT!

Bubble.   Burst.

All those little sparkly bubble pieces just floated down around me.

This blog is brought to you by, and with the permission of, the bubble burster.   Proudly sponsored by the moments of glee I took in tormenting her about this revelation.