Boxing was a big part of growing up in my family. It was constantly on our television. As a family we were always watching it and my dad would talk about how he boxed in the past. I was drawn to it as a kid and I remember asking my dad about it. My favorite fighter is Manny Pacquiao. He never forgets where he came from and gives back to his community. He made me want to box. When I told my dad, I remember he looked me in the eye and said, “girls don’t box, your bodies are not capable of it and you're not strong enough, you will get hurt so don’t ask me again.” 

 

I was persistent. I kept asking, but it wasn't until years later when I got my drivers permit that I asked one final time. I said, “I’m old enough to drive myself there.” He again looked me in the eye and said, “ok try it, but once you get beat up, and you will, because you’re not good enough, I’m telling you you need to stop asking me and that will be the end of it.” I agreed. Dad and I shook hands. That was our deal. 

 

I remember going to that first gym. It was about thirty minutes from the house and was nice, but they didn’t really work with me or take me seriously. I was happy though, because I was finally where I wanted to be. Unfortunately, it was short lived because that gym closed down due to funding. I had to find another place and I did, a make-shift gym out of a garage. The ring was in the backyard. The coach's son was a national ranked champion so I was really excited. I felt like I had found the right place and my brother and cousin came with me. 

 

The practices were so hard that my cousin and brother quit. Then, it was just me. Early on I started sparring with little to no training with another nationally ranked champion. I got beat up, my hair coming out of my headgear and blood coming out of my nose. I also had an asthma attack. It was the whole nine yards. It was bad. I think they thought I was gonna quit and I probably should have, but I’d made that deal with my dad and I had made a promise to myself. I was gonna get better and I was going to prove them all wrong. 

 

Boxing was the first sport I wasn’t already naturally good at. I really had to work at it. The drive to that gym was an hour there and an hour back but I was dedicated, so I did it. The coach started to notice my dedication..

 

At the time, I didn’t realize I was a perfect victim to be groomed. I was young, only 16. I started to get gross comments and stares, and the coach was very attentive. Nothing had actually happened yet, so I didn’t see the big picture of what was going on. I didn't want to see it. I just wanted to box. 

 

My mom always told me to speak up if someone does something. At the time I didn’t think he’d really done anything to hurt me. I just noticed the way he would look at me and talk to me. I thought I was imagining things. There was another coach in the area around this same time. It was when Myspace was a thing and I was only 16. He messaged me, wanting to hook up even though he was married and older. Still, I thought it was all in my head. I thought it was weird. I just wanted to box. “No one sets out to be a victim, no one wants to be a victim”. 

 

I stayed with that coach awhile because I wanted to prove myself. I wanted to compete and be good and thought maybe, once I’d proven myself as a real competitor, he would leave me alone. Then, one day he tried to kiss me. I pulled away. I left and never said anything. I remember how close I got to his family, how close I got to his wife, and to his daughters and his son. I thought if I said anything it would break up his family and no one would believe me. I kept thinking he's the coach, maybe I did something wrong. I learned that predators will wait years to get a victim comfortable with them before they try anything. I finally realized that environment and that gym were not for me. 

 

I tried a couple other gyms and finally found a coach that showed me what a real coach should be, Stephen Blea. He is still my coach to this day. He believed in me. I had another coach in Michigan, Al Mitchell, who also believed in me. They are real, they have good intentions and know how to be coaches. 

 

I went to the national bout in Ohio which is one of the biggest boxing tournaments in the nation. I fought Virginia Fuchs, who was probably the best boxer I ever competed against and  she went to the 2021 Olympics this year. I lost. She was very good and it was the first time I fought another southpaw fighter. My coach couldn't attend so I was on my own to find another coach during that tournament. I made friends during the tournament and was able to utilize their coach. We had to get rides to get to weigh-ins, to get food and to the tournament. I worked with this coach during the tournament. He was very eager to help my team and me. 

 

At one point during the tournament, this coach took us all to get food. On the way back he stopped the car at the hotel and told the guys to get out. They looked at him and they looked at me and they knew something was up. He told me to stay in the car, that we were going somewhere else.I got that same ugly feeling I had from my other coach. It triggered something inside of me. I knew I couldn’t trust him. I got out of the car and walked back to the hotel.

 

It was an ongoing struggle of trying to find my place in boxing and figuring out who I could trust. At the same time, I had to prove myself. Those people are the ones that had the say if I could fight or not. It was tough.

 

Shortly after that tournament I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. It affects all of my joints. In the doctor's office, I was in denial because I felt healthy. It was 2012. Women's boxing was finally allowed at the Olympics, so everyone was trying out. I remember thinking no matter how much you love boxing it will never love you back. I felt like all my work to find my place in this sport was falling apart. I walked away from it. I couldn’t even bring myself to even go to the gym. “I was so mad, so mad..”

 

About a year later I got pregnant with my son and had postpartum depression. The rheumatoid was in full flair, and on top of that, I had kidney stones and had to have surgery. It was like a metaphorical punch to the gut over and over. My real coaches instilled in me the attitude to never give up. In this moment, I had to believe in myself. I started thinking about returning to the gym. That's the moment I began thinking about becoming a coach. It would be my way to make sure kids are safe and parents can be reassured that their kids are in good hands, as they should be from the very beginning. 

 

My coaching career began in Spokane, Washington. I had no idea if I would be good at it. I didn’t even know if boys would respect me, because when I started boxing I wasn’t respected at all. But, they did. I had boys, teenagers and grown men out here listening to everything I said with full respect as their coach. I had Chauncy Welliver, “The Hillyard Hammer,”  in my corner. He helped me with my coaching but never overshadowed me. Coaching was a good transition. I thought I was going to be in the Olympics. I thought I would be a professional boxer, but that's not how things worked out. Instead, I’m making my mark as a coach.

 

When you start coaching someone from the beginning of their journey and see them progress and grow, it's a great feeling. It’s better than when your own hand is raised in victory. I have coached kids that have lots of support at home and others who have none. Their mentality is “why should I dream for the future when this is my life?” It’s amazing to see how my own skill sets in boxing have helped them in their journeys mentally, emotionally, and athletically. 

 

When I coach I'm there for them in and out of the ring. I model my coaching after the coaches who helped me the right way when I was a new boxer. I care about people and having that positive connection. I want to be in their lives for the good parts and the bad. When they win, and their hand is raised, that's great, let's celebrate, but when they lose, I want to be there, too, even more so. I want to remind them that they stepped into that ring. Not everyone can do that and that's what matters. 

 

I coach now because I can and I want to show my sons that women can do everything that men can do. I’m good at finding people's strengths and identifying their weaknesses and tweaking those to benefit them in the ring. Not all people have to have the same fight style. This sport is important to me, because it tests your character in a good way. 

 

My dad is the one who said “girls don’t box” but ironically my parents, both of them, are my biggest inspiration. They came from dirt poor poverty in Mexico. It was not an easy path for them. They work so hard and never stop. When you have parents like mine, who don’t use hardships as an excuse to give up, but rather as fuel to be better, it inspires you. 

 

Years have passed and now my dad says that women's boxing is his favorite sport to watch. He hangs my old boxing shoes in the garage. I don’t understand. They are nasty, old boxing shoes with blood on them. He says, “I have to hang them and show your sons what kind of fighter you are.” That was big for me. I might not have changed other people's minds, but I changed the mind of the person who means the most to me, my dad.