What To Do When Your Kid Doesn’t Like Jiu Jitsu

“I don’t want to do jiu jitsu anymore.”

“Why not?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral.

“I don’t know… I just don’t like it. It’s boring. I think I want to try something else.”

Boring, huh?

My eyebrows furrowed slightly. Here I was, sitting across from someone who couldn’t tell the difference between a sweep and a takedown, an armbar or a triangle, telling me—someone who has dedicated their life to jiu jitsu—that it was boring. It was almost comical. Like someone picking up a guitar for the first time, strumming out a few sour notes, and deciding music itself is overrated.

I leaned back, letting the silence stretch for a beat.

“Is it boring because you’ve already mastered it,” I asked, “or is it boring because it’s hard?”

That hit the mark.

Pause. A long one. I could see the gears turning, the mind wrestling with an answer that didn’t feel as easy as the word “boring.”

“…I guess it’s because it’s hard,” they finally admitted, their voice quieter now. “You have to remember stuff and actually use it.”

Now there’s the truth.

I nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

“Yeah, that’s part of the deal,” I said. “But let me ask you this—if you had a black belt right now, how would that feel?”

Their eyes lit up, as if they’d just caught a glimpse of a version of themselves they’d never considered.

“That’d be cool,” they said, grinning wide.

There it was.

“Interesting,” I replied, leaning forward slightly. “So it’s not that you don’t want the skill—you just don’t like the hard work that comes with it.”

That probably stung a little. Not because it was harsh, but because it was true.

For a teenager, “it’s boring” often means, “it’s hard, and I feel like I’m not good at it.” That feeling can stir up anxiety, like maybe you’re not smart enough to figure it out—especially when it seems like everyone else is getting it.

It doesn’t just make you want to quit. It makes you want to run—to something new, something easier, something that doesn’t make you feel behind.

Another pause. But this time, it wasn’t silence. It was reflection. The kind that settles in when a simple question cuts through all the excuses and lands right in the heart of the matter.

This was a real conversation. And it taught me something important—not just about the kid sitting in front of me, but about how we all think, especially when we’re young.

Because here’s the truth: It’s not that kids don’t want the rewards of life. They just don’t want the struggles that come with it.

But that’s exactly where the growth happens.

The Modern Parenting Trap

Parents often come to me with the same concern:

“We’ve tried soccer, piano, karate… but nothing seems to stick.”

Sound familiar?

Welcome to the activity-hopping era—where kids bounce from one thing to another, chasing excitement until it fades, and parents follow along, hoping the next thing will be the thing.

But here’s the uncomfortable truth: passion doesn’t magically appear. It’s built. It’s where preparation meets opportunity. And one thing about life is, it will always present us with plenty of opportunity.

And the foundation is laid in the least glamorous part: the struggle.

The Problem Isn’t Jiu Jitsu (or Soccer… or Piano…)

Let’s talk about Little Timmy.

Timmy is five. You sign him up for soccer. Every practice, he’s goofing off—chasing butterflies instead of the ball, running in the wrong direction, standing like a statue, making mud pies during huddles. By the end of the season, you think:

“Okay, soccer’s just not his thing.”

So you sign him up for basketball.

Same behavior. Different sport.

What’s the Problem?

Is Timmy lazy? Uncoachable? Lacking talent?

Nope. The problem isn’t the activity—or Timmy.

The problem is this: Timmy isn’t prepared.

Here’s Why Timmy Struggles:

1. He’s never done organized sports.

2. He’s never watched soccer or basketball.

3. He’s never been coached.

4. He’s never practiced basic skills regularly.

5. He doesn’t know the other kids.

That’s like dropping someone in a foreign language class without teaching them the alphabet—and expecting them to be fluent by the end of the semester.

Of course, Timmy’s going to feel lost. Of course, he’s going to disengage. And when that happens, his confidence takes a hit and you may never even know it.

The Parental Side: What’s Really Going On?

Now, let’s flip the mirror. Why does this situation feel so frustrating for parents?

Because often, our children’s struggles poke at something deeper within us.

• Our own childhood insecurities.

• Our need to feel like “good parents.”

• Comparing our kids to others (“Why isn’t my kid like theirs?”).

• Our discomfort with watching our kids struggle.

Sometimes, it’s subconscious. Other times, it’s right there on the surface—“Is this a reflection of my parenting?”

Honestly? Maybe.

But that’s okay. Parenting isn’t about perfection. It’s about growth—for both you and your child.

The Real Growth Happens Here:

I’ve seen it time and time again:

• Parents who struggle with delayed gratification—expecting immediate results from their child.

• Parents who chase activities not for growth, but to keep up with the Joneses.

• Parents who pull the plug too soon, thinking, “This just isn’t the right fit,” when really, their child just needed more time to adjust.

The most successful kids I’ve coached don’t have superhuman talent.

They have parents who:

1. Detach from outcomes. They don’t obsess over trophies or medals.

2. Are firm with commitments. They don’t let every bad day turn into quitting.

3. Understand that discomfort is part of growth. For the child and the parent.

Timmy’s not failing.

He’s learning.

And maybe, so are you.

The Pattern That Keeps Repeating

The teenager who wanted to quit jiu jitsu wasn’t bored. They were frustrated.

At first, it was exciting—like learning any new skill. But then the novelty wore off, and reality set in:

• You actually have to learn things.

• You have to remember techniques.

• You have to apply them, even when it’s uncomfortable.

And that’s when the temptation hits:

“Maybe I should try something else.”

Something new feels exciting again—for a little while. But guess what?

The same pattern shows up.

The excitement fades. The hard work kicks in. And the cycle repeats.

The Hidden Cost of Starting Over

Every time you quit and start over, you lose something valuable—time.

• Time you could’ve spent getting better.

• Time you’ll now spend getting back to square one in something else that will eventually require the same dedication.

The problem isn’t the activity.

It’s the relationship with hard work.

It Makes More Sense to Quit When You’re Good

Here’s something that might sound strange:

It actually makes more sense to quit when you’re good than when you’re not.

Why?

Because when you’re good at something, you’ve:

• Developed discipline.

• Built confidence through competence.

• Learned how to push through challenges.

If you choose to walk away at that point, you’re leaving on your terms, from a place of strength—not frustration.

But quitting when you’re struggling? That’s like walking away halfway up a mountain because the climb got tough.

You never get to experience the view from the top.

The Magic of Childhood: Built-In Support

When that teenager said having a black belt would be awesome, it was clear:

• They wanted the skill.

• They just didn’t want the struggle that came with it.

But here’s the beauty of childhood—you have support.

You have parents who pay, coaches who teach, and mentors who can push you through the hard parts.

Because once you’re an adult?

It’s all on you.

And let me tell you as someone who coaches adults as well—it’s a lot harder to build discipline when no one’s there to hold you accountable.

That’s why parents play such a critical role.

Not to be drill sergeants, but to be the bridge between “I want this” and “I did this.”

The Long-Term Impact: What I’ve Seen Over the Years

You don’t know how many of my old students I see around town, doing absolutely nothing with the potential they once had.

You don’t know how many teenagers message me, saying they regret quitting jiu jitsu, wishing they’d never stopped training after seeing the success of their teammates who stuck with it.

You don’t know how many parents reach out, asking if their daughters—who they let quit years ago—can do a few self-defense classes before heading off to college.

You don’t know how many young adults have come back, telling me they wish they had kept going because now they struggle with discipline, and starting over feels overwhelming.

But here’s the thing—I don’t say this to guilt anyone.

Life happens. People grow. Priorities shift.

I just wish they could’ve seen back then what they see so clearly now.

Because most regrets don’t come from trying too hard.

They come from giving up too soon.

Are You Signing Your Child Up for the Experience or the Skill?

As parents, it’s important to ask ourselves:

Are we signing our kids up for the experience or for the skill?

I tell my students this all the time: jiu-jitsu is a heck of a lot better when you’re good.

Confidence flows when competence grows.

The joy of playing the game, performing on stage, or stepping onto the mat comes from knowing they’re capable.

And that only happens with time, repetition, and yes—struggle.

Mastery Isn’t a Destination—It’s a Process

Jiu jitsu, like any worthwhile pursuit, demands more the longer you stick with it.

And that’s a good thing.

Because the real prize isn’t the black belt.

It’s the person you become along the way.

The kid who wanted to quit didn’t just need encouragement.

They needed someone to help them see the bigger picture:

• That frustration is part of learning.

• That boredom often masks fear of failure.

• That quitting doesn’t solve the problem—it just delays facing it.

Practical Tips for Parents

1. Set Clear Goals:

Tie commitments to milestones, not moods.

“When you earn your yellow belt, we’ll talk about next steps.”

2. Create Consistency:

Make jiu jitsu part of the routine, like school or chores. No debates, no negotiations—just part of life.

3. Acknowledge Feelings, Hold the Line:

“I know you’re tired. I get it. But we made a commitment. Let’s keep going.”

4. Stay Aligned with Your ‘Why’:

Why did you sign them up in the first place? Confidence, discipline, focus, self-defense? Don’t let temporary discomfort derail long-term goals.

5. Model Resilience:

Kids watch how we handle challenges. Show them that persistence isn’t optional—it’s a value.

The Success Story That Stuck with Me

I had a student who cried almost every class. She begged her dad to let her quit. Instead, he made a deal:

“Earn your grey and black belt. If you still want to quit, you can.”

By the time she earned that belt, something had changed. She didn’t want to quit anymore.

In fact, she’d fallen in love with jiu jitsu.

Eight years later? She’s a top wrestler on her high school team and still training.

It wasn’t talent that got her there.

It was time, persistence, and the refusal to quit when it got hard.

The Final Question

If you enrolled your child in jiu jitsu to build discipline, confidence, and resilience…

What message are you sending if you let them quit the moment it gets hard?

The greatest gift we can give our kids isn’t an easy path.

It’s the understanding that struggle isn’t the enemy.

It’s the way.

Because real growth doesn’t happen when things are easy.

It happens when they’re hard—and you show up anyway.