When They Lose: What WE’ve Learned as a Jiu-Jitsu PARENT About Supporting OUR CHILDREN After Defeat
There’s no manual for this.
No blueprint for how to be the perfect parent when your child walks off the mat defeated—crying, broken, shoulders heavy with disappointment.
I’ve stood in that corner. I’ve watched my child cry after a tough match. And honestly, I didn’t always handle it the right way. I hated seeing them look fragile. I didn’t like them feeling like a victim, and I didn’t want to feel helpless. So I tried to patch the pain quickly. I said the wrong things. I made excuses to soften the blow. But over time, I’ve learned that those moments—when handled with care—are some of the most powerful in our child’s athletic (and emotional) journey.
This post isn’t from a perfect parent. It’s from someone who’s made mistakes and is learning how to do better. Here’s what I’ve discovered about helping our kids grow through the hard losses—not despite them, but because of them.
1. Let the Hurt Exist. It’s Not Our Job to Erase It.
I used to rush in and say things like:
"It’s okay, that kid was stronger and heavier."
"You’ll get them next time."
"Don’t cry, you did fine!"
But I didn’t realise this: in trying to protect them from pain, I was also denying them the lesson.
Now, I just sit beside them. Sometimes silent. Sometimes saying:
“I know that stings. I saw how hard you tried. It’s okay to feel it.”
Because growth doesn’t happen when we skip the emotion. It happens when we walk through it with them.
“When we rescue children from discomfort, we rob them of the tools they need to thrive.” – Dr. Lisa Damour
2. Stop Blaming the External – Help Them Own the Experience
I used to say:
"We were just unlucky."
"He was way bigger."
"That ref made a bad call."
Maybe those things were true—but what they did was shift responsibility away from where it matters: my child’s learning and growth.
Now, I try to say things like:
“That was a really tough match. What did it show us about what we need to work on?”
“That kid was strong, but what could we do next time to prepare for that kind of challenge?”
Not to make them feel bad—but to empower them. To help them see loss not as punishment, but as information.
3. Acknowledge Your Own Emotions—Then Step Aside
This part’s hard.
Sometimes when I(the parent) get emotional after a loss, it’s not really about them. It’s my ego. My frustration. My own fear that they’re not okay.
And that’s okay to feel—but not okay to project.
What they need in that moment isn’t my emotional storm. They need my calm. They need me to anchor them. So I’ve learned to check myself before I speak.
Sometimes the best thing I can say is simply:
“I’m proud of how you handled that. We’ll figure it out together.”
4. Praise What Matters: Courage Over Outcome
There’s no trophy for courage. But that’s the stuff that builds champions.
After a tough loss, I try to point out the effort, not just the result:
“I saw you making the move to escape the sub, That was a massive effort”
“You stepped up. You kept fighting even when it got tough. That takes guts.”
I think Kids don’t need sugar-coating—they need to hear that showing up is winning, especially when it’s hard.
5. Save the Technical Talk for Later
As a parent who practice this is the hardest. I’ve made the mistake of turning the car ride home into a coaching session. Not the move.
Now, I wait.
We talk the next day, or at the next training, when the feelings have cooled down. I ask:
“What’s one thing you think you could improve for next time?”
“Do you want help reviewing that match?” (This is where the videos help a lot)
Because timing is everything. They won’t hear coaching until they’ve been heard emotionally.
6. Let Loss Be a Chapter, Not the Ending
Every champion has lost. Gordon Ryan. Mica. The Ruotolos. What made them great wasn’t perfection—it was how they used their setbacks.
I remind my kids:
“Losses don’t define you. They prepare you.”
We rewatch the matches. We take notes. We drill the weak spots. Not with shame, but with purpose.
Because this isn’t about raising medal collectors. It’s about raising resilient, humble, gritty human beings.
Final Thoughts:
If you’ve made mistakes in these moments like I have—you’re not alone. We’re all figuring this out.
What matters most is that we keep learning, just like our kids do. That we stay in their corner—not just to cheer when they win, but to stand strong with them when they fall. Because in jiu-jitsu, like in life, those falls are never final—only formative.
And in those moments of defeat, if we listen closely… that’s when the most important kind of growth begins.
