Can You Be Addicted to Your Martial Art?

Several years ago, during a low period in my life, I wondered if taekwondo had become yet another addiction. I’ve been addicted to many things: people, exercise, food, alcohol, thought patterns, and coping mechanisms. Taekwondo had been a saving force in overcoming the worst of my mental illnesses. Of course it was a source of happiness for me…but had it become my only source of happiness? Was I clinging to it like a savior to avoid other problem areas in my life?

When you’re addicted to something, you lie to yourself. On one hand, taekwondo provided a healthy outlet for my negative feelings, plus a supportive community. On the other, I became dependent on my classes to drive my mood. Yes, it helped me stay somewhat sane through that difficult period, but I didn’t try to actively change my outlook or situation outside of class. When I was depressed and lonely, my life became a faded blur, as if I were in a slumber, only to awaken when it was time to put on my dobok and belt for taekwondo classes.

This brings up a two-part question: Can you be addicted to your martial art, or at least overly dependent on it, and what do you do if you find yourself in that situation?

My almost cult-like devotion to my taekwondo school and how I thought it was benefiting me came to a head in 2018. We moved to a location I didn’t like, and my own black belt training fell to the wayside as my classmates and I were co-opted into teaching the pared down evening classes. The person in charge had become more unpredictable and volatile, even berating his best instructor in front of students, and then throwing a furious temper tantrum when said instructor left for a better-paying job. Yet, I stayed.

I told myself I was staying for the students who were about to test for black belt, but I was really staying for me. I couldn’t let go, even though going to class was no longer fun. I was even in tears some nights before I went to class because I dreaded it so much. I finally left in September of 2018 and joined another dojang a few months later. You’d think I’d have felt lost during the period where I wasn’t training. Instead, I felt like I could finally breathe and detach myself, at least for a little while, from something that had turned from enjoyment to unhealthy obsession.

My relationship with taekwondo was more balanced following my split with my old school. Once again, I looked forward to the nights I would train, but I also paid more attention to other aspects of my life. Taekwondo was a big part of my life, but it didn’t solely define me.

As I’ve mentioned in other articles, a severe injury in 2020 and subsequent surgeries temporarily stopped my training. I also went through a mental health crisis during 2020 and into 2021, mostly exacerbated by other events, but it didn’t help that I’d lost my main source of community and vocation. Was I, once again, too dependent on my martial art to give my life meaning and enjoyment? Was my addiction revealed when I lost my ability to train?

The withdrawal from my martial art has been at times very painful. However, this forced down time has pushed me to really get to know myself and how I respond to life’s challenges. I sought treatment from mental health professionals and have developed healthy coping skills. I was able to fully focus on the release of my first book and subsequent publicity. I’ve launched a podcast and am continuing to develop as a writer.

Had I been so dependent on taekwondo to fill all the time in my calendar and space in my brain during 2021, I’m not sure I could have devoted the necessary energy to these other aspects of my life.

As you’re reading about my experience you may think, “That’s an extreme case of someone with a history of mental health problems. I’m not dependent on my martial art to make me happy.” That’s likely true for most martial artists. If you do find yourself feeling a distorted balance between how you feel on the mat versus off, however, think carefully.

Many martial artists joke that their martial art is “therapy,” and it’s true that a martial art causes warm fuzzy feelings and offers a great sense of community. There’s a fine line between a healthy devotion to something important in your life and an over dependence on it to fill a void in your heart and soul.

If you isolate yourself and only interact with others on the training floor, you may be too dependent on your “martial arts family” for social interaction. If you can’t mentally function without your martial art, perhaps a healthier martial arts-life balance would help tip the scales. If you keep yourself in an unhappy martial arts situation because you think you’ll be worse off without it, it’s time to leave that toxic situation and find something else.

Life is great on the mat. But it’s also great off of it.

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Melanie Gibson

Melanie Gibson was raised in Snyder, Texas, where she began taekwondo training at age ten. She is the author of the book "Kicking and Screaming: a Memoir of Madness and Martial Arts." Melanie is a second degree taekwondo black belt and is the creator of the martial arts blog Little Black Belt (http://littleblackbelt.com).

Melanie has worked in the healthcare industry since 2004 and lives in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex.

Latest posts by Melanie Gibson (see all)

• Spotlight on Men’s Mental Health - July 2, 2023
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• Seeking Authenticity? Look to Martial Arts - February 9, 2023