I quit kickboxing after I seriously hurt someone, and I don’t know how to live with it.
I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this, so I’m putting it here and hoping it helps me breathe a little.
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A while ago, I had an amateur kickboxing fight. It was supposed to be fun, just a test of skill, nothing more. During the fight, I landed a head kick clean, fast, and strong. The guy went down hard. At first, I celebrated, just for a split second, the way everyone does when they land something big. But then the cheering stopped. He wasn’t moving.
He didn’t wake up.
Medics ran into the ring. The whole place went silent. I just stood there frozen, watching them work on him. That silence is burned into my memory. It’s the kind of silence that eats at you.
Later I found out he had permanent brain damage.
Everyone kept saying things like, “That’s the sport,” or “You didn’t mean it,” but those words don’t fix anything. They don’t erase the fact that I threw that kick. They don’t make it easier to sleep at night. They don’t help when I picture his face in that hospital bed.
I wasn’t even supposed to go to the hospital, but I couldn’t stay away. I needed to see if he was okay, if there was any sign he’d recover. His family was there his mom, his dad, a few friends. They were trying to hold it together, but the pain was written all over their faces. When his mom cried, it broke something inside me.
He wasn’t talking right. He looked lost, confused, like a part of him was missing. And I couldn’t stop thinking, I did this.
When I left that hospital, I felt like the worst person alive. I didn’t just hurt someone — I changed someone’s life forever.
I quit immediately after that. I haven’t stepped foot in a gym since. I can’t even hit a bag without feeling sick. The thought of sparring again makes me nauseous. Even watching fights on TV messes with me. Everyone else sees the glory and the highlight reels, but all I see is the possibility that someone might never wake up the same again.
My coach doesn’t get it. My friends don’t either. They tell me it’s just part of the game, that I should toughen up. But how do you “toughen up” after realizing you took something from someone that can never be given back?
Maybe I’m being dramatic. Maybe I am too emotional. But the guilt doesn’t leave. It sits in my chest, heavy and constant. I feel like I ruined someone’s life just because I wanted to prove something, to chase a hobby that now feels meaningless.
I don’t want sympathy or forgiveness. I just needed to say it somewhere, because keeping it inside feels unbearable. I wish more than anything that I could go back to that day and make a different choice.
I wish I never stepped into that ring.
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