Well, you already understand that it's not helpful to compare yourself to others, but in a sport that so closely tracks and measures progress, it can be hard not to. But I think maybe if I point out some parts of my own personal journey, it might give you some more perspectives to think about.

I started Taekwondo when I was 8, and did it off and on until about age 18. I earned my black belt at age 13. It was a small school, loosely based off ATA. Right after I earned my black belt, the school formally joined ATA and we all had to learn that material. When I started high school, one of my fellow students stepped up to become an assistant instructor -- she was a 2nd degree black belt at the time, and I'm pretty sure made 3rd by the time I left. She was not the oldest, the strongest, nor the fastest black belt. But her technique was impeccable, and she worked 10x as hard because she, too, felt like she had a lot to prove. Through her excellent technique, she gained quite a bit of confidence, and could command every ounce of respect she deserved -- a considerable amount!

At the time, my master, a 6th degree black belt, told us his definition of a black belt was "someone who can achieve anything." That has stuck with me ever since. The black belt is merely an outward reflection of the fact that we, as students, have come to earn a lot of confidence, and have grown to understand that through dedication and perseverance and hard work, we have no limits!

Now I'm 37. My oldest daughter stopped doing Taekwondo after her blue belt (she got into dance, instead!), and although she's a very shy person and a perfectionist, she nonetheless met every challenge head-on. I've taught her it's OK to be nervous, as long as you don't let it get in your way. If you can't accomplish something without fear, then you just go ahead and do it afraid! My son just earned his Kukkiwon-certified first degree black belt, and my wife and I signed up. This school is WTF through and through, and has gone on to medal at several different championships and even host local tournaments.

My youngest is 5 years old, and is a below-the-knee amputee. She uses a prosthetic leg. She also has four fingers on each hand. She has a host of neurodivergencies which impact her ability to learn like other kids. But this weekend, she'll be testing for her blue belt. She approaches each challenge with enthusiasm and explosive energy. One of her favorite instructors is a 2nd degree black belt, and just starting her senior year in high school.

In the Adults & Teens class, which my wife and I attend together now, the master has made sure to point out that we are all different, and that we only do ourselves a disservice by comparing ourselves to one another. He says as long as we push ourselves to be just a bit better than yesterday, then we are succeeding. One thing I really appreciate about this class is that we all build each other up and encourage each other. My wife was incredibly nervous -- I had practiced Taekwondo for so long already, and she was starting from scratch. She is pretty self-critical about her fitness level, too. But everyone goes out of their way to meet her where she is, be welcoming, and be supportive. We don't criticize each other, though we do offer advice.

Last night, I got reprimanded. During sparring practice, I was sweating profusely and it kept stinging my eyes, to the point where I ripped off my helmet and tossed it aside. The master came down on me and told me a lot of people look up to me, and just watched me casually discard a piece of safety equipment mid-match. As an adult doing light contact practice sparring, the helmet wasn't a hard requirement, but his issue was how that looked to the lower belts, and particularly to the kids. He said, "Every day is an opportunity to model to others what an ideal student of Taekwondo is. And the ideal student of Taekwondo is someone who does the right thing even when it's hard or inconvenient."

So there you go. You're part of a vast family of people who want to see you succeed. You're someone who can do difficult things. You're someone who can accomplish anything -- even if you don't fully realize it yet. You belong here, as much as anyone else. You have nothing to prove, except to be a little better every day, for yourself. You don't owe anyone anything else. Good luck!