Since I came back to Capoeira in August, I’ve realized a lot of things. Feelings I haven’t had in a long time have returned, and I’ve learned countless things about myself. Throughout all the constant things running through my mind, one thing has remained constant: joy.

Growing up, I was always big for my age. Too tall, too bulky, just too big. I was put in karate and boxing, sparring all with the hope of getting me to release my full potential. Despite the constant attempts, it was never what I wanted. I wanted to fit in and to have friends. I didn’t want to be the fighting machine; I wanted to be the popular girl everybody liked.

My people-pleasing tendencies led me to always be the target of bullying. I didn’t understand why people didn’t like me, and I blamed it all on the way I looked. I left Karate, sparring, and boxing. I didn’t want to fight anymore.

That is when I found Capoeira.

I remember the day I walked into the studio. I was 9 years old, with nothing but my best friend coming along to calm my nerves. The place was huge, and there were new faces everywhere. We were taken to the back, where a teacher named Zumbi gave us our first lesson. He taught us how even though Capoeira was a martial art, it was so much more. It was a dance; it was music; it was an expression. A Capoeirista was more than just a fighter.

I remember the strange movements and feeling unsure that this place was right for me. But even despite all my confusion, I could never forget the smile everyone had on their faces. I left that day knowing that I would come back.

I joined their afterschool program, meeting Mestre (master), Miss Sarah, Borracha, Alegria, and all the people that made up Capoeira Karkara. My time in Capoeira was the best time of my life. I met so many new people that soon became not only my friends but my family.

I remember the days being picked up in the afterschool van, laughing and singing along with the other kids. I remember the Portuguese lessons with Borracha and the crafts with Miss Mickey. I remember how Zumbi became not just my teacher but the man I still look up to.

Most of all, I remember how Capoeira saved my life.

They not only taught me how to cartwheel or how to throw a kick, but how to love myself. They supported me unconditionally and showed me what it truly meant to be accepted. I was always the tallest girl there, but they never treated me differently. They taught me that my differences made me strong and powerful. To be powerful was to be poderosa.

This is what they called me, Poderosa.

It was when Covid hit that I left. They lost the academy, and I had begun middle school. There were a lot of changes, but the main reason I didn’t come back was because I felt ashamed. I was ashamed that I gave up on the very people who never gave up on me. I put myself in sports and clubs, but it never felt the same. No team or group could replicate the bond I always found myself missing.

It wasn’t until I began high school that I was reminded of what it felt like to be accepted. I met some of the most amazing people that not only accepted me but related to me. It was cool to be different, and all of our differences ended up making us the same. I realized that nobody judged me for leaving and that I had to go back.

I went back in August, and since that day I’ve learned that my only regret was not returning sooner. I was put in the adult classes, and any doubts I had were quickly pushed away. Everyone immediately welcomed me back, even the new adults that had never seen me before. Even though I was now 16 and I was a completely different girl, I was still their Poderosa.

When I came back, we were beginning our preparations for the upcoming Batizado (graduation). I began performance practices, meeting the new teens and seeing the ones I knew in the past. It barely took a week before the initial awkwardness was replaced with familiarity. Even though there were so many new people, they still became the family I missed and loved.

This weekend, the Batizado finally arrived. It lasted a total of 3 days, beginning on Thursday and ending with the afterparty on Saturday night. These might have just been the best days of my life. I met instructors, professors, and mestres who all had the same Capoeira spirit I’ve grown to love. Just by walking into the studio, I could feel the energy fill the room to the brim, touching every single person I met.

I got my first adult cord, and I nearly cried once I saw the proud look on everyone’s faces. This was what I missed. My capoeira.