Safety, Respect, and Responsibility in BJJ – Reflections from a Woman on the Mat

I’ve come to realize how much of my life revolves around human relationships, and that’s especially true for my sport, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (BJJ).

I’ve been training for a few years now, since around 2019/2020, and the deeper I dive into this world, the more questions arise for me.

One of the central questions is:

What does it mean to train as a woman* in a sport that is still dominated by men?

How do I find and establish my place there? How do I get taken seriously in how I train, in my skills, independent of my gender?

Because on the mat, there are many hierarchies: belts, gender, weight, experience.

And these hierarchies, whether consciously or unconsciously, shape how we interact with each other. Unfortunately, they can also create power imbalances and those can be abused, sometimes subtly, sometimes very openly.

So the question that keeps coming back to me is:

How can we keep a gym safe? For everyone?

For women, it’s often intimidating to walk into a gym where you don’t know anyone and there are barely any other women.

Many FLINTA* people (women, lesbians, intersex, non-binary, trans, and agender individuals) have had experiences that have no place on the mat: unwanted touching, comments about their bodies, condescending remarks about their skills or the classic, “You’re pretty good… for a woman.”

Instead of simply saying: You’re good. Period.

What also frustrates me is the typical mansplaining that exists in BJJ, men explaining how something works, unasked, even when the woman they’re talking to is just as skilled or even more experienced. These might seem like small moments, but they add up and create a climate that makes it hard for many women to feel comfortable or to stay long-term.

Responsibility Starts at the Top

A gym should be a place where everyone feels safe, a place to move, learn, and connect.

Not a place where you get hit on or receive uncomfortable messages after training.

And that starts with leadership. The person running a gym sets the tone for its culture.

There need to be clear rules communicated and enforced:

What counts as respectful behavior? Where are the boundaries? And what happens when those boundaries are crossed?

Of course, relationships can sometimes develop during training or at camps. That’s not inherently wrong, but there needs to be awareness of whether a power imbalance exists, and whether the situation is truly mutual and transparent.

If not, things can quickly become uncomfortable, especially when one person says no or decides to step back.

We Need Protection Policies — Also in Martial Arts

What makes me angry is seeing again and again how some coaches abuse their position and still get to continue teaching.

Women who speak up often aren’t taken seriously. They’re ignored, dismissed, ridiculed, or silenced.

This isn’t an isolated problem. It’s a structural issue.

That’s why gyms need clear protection policies against (sexual) harassment, just like schools or social institutions already have.

A proper protection plan should include:

• a confidant or trusted person, ideally a woman or FLINTA member of the team

• a clear procedure for what happens when boundaries are crossed

• rules for coaches and assistant coaches

• guidelines for respectful behavior on the mat

• accountability toward guests and visitors

• training and education on prevention and power dynamics

Even small details can make a difference:

How are the changing rooms designed? Are there safe parking spots (for example, FLINTA-only parking)? Is the path to the exit well-lit? Do I know who to turn to if something happens?

It’s Everyone’s Responsibility

Safety in BJJ and in all martial arts is not a “women’s issue.”

It’s something that concerns all of us.

We all share the responsibility to make the mat a place where everyone feels safe.

It starts with listening. With taking things seriously. With acting.

This isn’t about spreading fear, it’s about creating awareness.

So that BJJ can remain what it is for so many of us: a place of growth, connection, and strength, physically and emotionally.