By Rachel Kove, Certified Recovery Coach, Group Facilitator, Artist, Podcast Host, and Mental Health Advocate.
Table of Contents
Why We Must Learn from Failure—Even in Front of Our Kids
Over the weekend, I competed in my very first karate tournament—and what an incredible experience it was. Even more meaningful: my 7-year-old son competed too.
This moment was surreal for many reasons. First, I’ve grown up in the Karate Kid universe. My dad and my brother were both actors in the series Cobra Kai, and that final scene in the movie—Johnny and Daniel facing off—has felt like the backdrop of my life since I was a baby.
Because I have been attached to the Cobra Kai world through my brother and father, people have always assumed I knew karate. I’m constantly asked, “Does your dad really know karate?” I’m asked about something related to Cobra Kai all the time. So not only did I want my answer to always be, “Yes! We all know karate!”—but I’ve also been deeply drawn to martial arts since I was a little girl.
I was always captivated by strong female characters who knew how to protect themselves—who fought for what and who they loved. I loved Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Xena, Charmed. It was empowering to see women who felt confident in their bodies. Women who didn’t feel small just because they were physically less strong than a man. I wanted that confidence. I wanted the discipline—to train and show up even when I didn’t feel like it.
I trained in jiu-jitsu for over a year and a half. Unfortunately, due to a mistake I made, I got a severe concussion and had to take a break. But I knew, even as I was building the courage to return, I still wanted to study a martial art. That’s when I began training in Tang Soo Do with Master Ryan Potter at All Star Martial Arts.
Every week, I meet with Master Ryan—my sensei. He doesn’t just teach me how to defend myself; he teaches me how to strengthen my mind, my body, and my spirit. He helps me focus on the things that matter most in life: family, integrity, and honor.
Learning to Lose Gracefully: What It Really Means to Learn from Failure
And because I’ve been learning to discipline my mind—to block out distractions and negative thoughts—I was able to participate in my first karate tournament. I walked away with lessons that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. Lessons about self-worth. About failure. About the art of learning how to lose, how to earn your first-place trophy, and how to accept second place with the same grace. And that in either scenario, I am still worthy, capable, powerful, and strong.
Teaching Our Kids to Learn from Failure by Modeling It Ourselves
I wanted to show my son that it’s okay to be afraid. But don’t let the fear hold you back. My son was scared to go too. He didn’t want to go at first. He held his ground and said that he wasn’t going to do it. He had never performed in front of anyone. We kept encouraging him, but he kept saying no. He watched me perform. He saw me mess up. He saw my positive attitude pushing me through the disappointment and embarrassment I felt. I told him how nervous I was. I didn’t want to model anything other than the humanity I felt in that moment. After sitting with his fear and discomfort for over an hour, my beautiful son whispered to me and said, “Mom, I want to do it.” And he did. And he got third place. I felt so proud of him. He had fear. He saw his Mom fail. He saw me not die when I made my mistake. He built his own courage, trusted it, and faced his fear.
How Karate Helped Me Learn from Failure and Build Mental Discipline
I competed in two categories: board breaking and forms. Each event was judged by a panel of three black belts—one of them a 7th-degree. Meanwhile, I’m a white belt. The form I performed was something I had practiced over and over again with my sensei, Master Ryan.
The week before the tournament, he looked at me and said, “I just want to prepare you for the nerves that will come up when you’re competing. You’ll feel nervous—and that’s completely normal.” I heard him—but I didn’t really take it in. I’ve been a competitive athlete my whole life. I’m an actress, a singer, a speaker, and I facilitate groups weekly in front of 10 to 15 people. I don’t shy away from an audience. I thought, “I’ll be totally fine.”
Then tournament day came. I put on my pink gi, tied my white belt around my waist, and walked in with my son and my ex-husband. Suddenly—I felt it. My heart started racing. My body froze. The nerves hit me all at once. I thought, “Maybe I shouldn’t do this today.” But I couldn’t model that for my son.
Yes—I was afraid. But fear is normal. It’s part of life. What we choose to do with fear determines whether we move closer to our goals or farther away. Fear is there to warn us—not to stop us from living.
The tournament began. The sensei called everyone to line up. 11:00 AM strikes—and I’m the first name called. “Rachel Kove, you’re up.” I named my form and began. I felt strong. I felt confident. I was still nervous. I was surrounded by people—friends, kids, adults, my ex-husband, and most importantly, my son. About halfway through, I made a mistake. I did the wrong move. I failed. But I kept going. I finished the form. I sat down and felt proud. I had faced my fear. I had done the hard thing. I had shown up.
Learn from Failure Without Shame: The Power of Self-Compassion
At the same time—I felt disappointed. Frustrated. I’m competitive. I wanted to win. That moment was pivotal for me.
How do we respond to ourselves when we make mistakes? How do we fail well? I’ve watched the videos, read the books, done the self-work. And what I’ve learned is this: We must learn to coach ourselves through failure. I didn’t berate myself. I didn’t tear myself down. I used to do that—beat myself up, call myself names, spiral into shame. But not anymore. Now, I’m my own coach. My own best friend. The way we speak to ourselves shapes everything.
As I sat down, my son leaned over and whispered, “Mom, you messed up the move.” I smiled and said, “I know. It’s okay. I’m proud of myself for trying.” We both smiled. That moment mattered. I let myself feel the disappointment. I didn’t pretend it wasn’t there. I felt it. Then I refocused. I asked myself: What can I learn? What can I do differently next time? Not to criticize myself. But to grow.
You Are the Thinker of Your Thoughts: Discipline Beyond the Dojo
When I run groups at AM Health Care, including programs like the Ohana Recovery Center—a treatment program specifically designed for women, addressing both mental health and addiction—I often focus on helping clients build a healthier relationship with their minds. Many of the women I work with struggle with obsessive thoughts, fear, self-doubt, and anxiety. The mind becomes a place of constant worry, often tuned to negativity. But one of the most powerful lessons from karate is mental discipline—learning to master your focus and becoming intentional about where you place your attention.
You are the creator of your thoughts. As the late Dr. Wayne Dyer said, “You are the thinker of your thoughts.” You can’t always control the first thought that enters your mind, but you are the master of how you respond to it. “What you focus on, that’s where energy flows.”
I love empowering my clients to take control of their consciousness—to create thoughts that feel encouraging, uplifting, motivating, and true. Our brains are wired to focus on the negative, to protect us from potential harm. You can not identify with the thoughts. You must observe the thought and replace the thought with a thought that is positive. You have the power to change what you don’t like and create what you want. Just like when a TV show comes on that you don’t want to watch—or a song you don’t want to hear—you change the channel.
I once heard a psychologist say, “Your mind is the servant, not the master.” Conscious leaders often talk about how our soul is who we truly are—and that it’s our consciousness that dictates what reality we experience, and what story we choose to live.
From Disappointment to Victory: What I Learned from Failure (and Winning)
Because I treated myself with love and compassion—because I chose to encourage myself instead of punish myself after making that mistake in form—I found the courage to keep going. In the next round, I won first place in board breaking. It felt amazing. This karate tournament motivated me to bring these lessons to my clients in group. So often I see a similar theme with the individuals that I coach. So many people were raised in environments where the parenting style—whether intentional or not—taught children to fear making mistakes. We then develop into adults who struggle with perfectionism, workaholism, and procrastination. Those children become adults with a severely critical voice in their minds—one that fuels obsessive thinking and low self-worth. It creates a person who is in constant comparison mode. Someone who has a hard time validating themselves or feeling proud of their accomplishments.
How My First Karate Tournament Taught Me to Learn from Failure and Keep Going
Your time and energy is valuable. Your energy can be used for verbally abusing yourself or it can be used for creativity, love, and self-encouragement. You decide. Don’t let negativity win. Stop using your precious energy belittling yourself. Use that energy to grow. To improve. To challenge yourself to pay attention. To notice the details and commit to doing them better next time.
“Failure is the opportunity to begin again, more intelligently.” — Henry Ford
Learn from failure. Feel the feelings—and keep going. Be resilient. Stay in the dojo. And wherever you are in your journey… just keep going.
Life Lessons: What I Learned from Failure
- Failure isn’t the opposite of success—it’s part of it. Every mistake is a doorway to learning and growth.
- When you learn from failure, you model strength, not weakness. Especially to your children or those watching.
- Fear is normal—but it doesn’t get to make the final decision. Courage means acting with fear, not without it.
- You can’t control the nerves, but you can control your mindset. What you focus on is what grows.
- Self-compassion is a superpower. Talk to yourself the way you would a friend who’s learning something new.
- Messing up publicly won’t kill you—but it might just make you stronger.
- Mental discipline is just as important as physical training. Mastering your mind is the foundation of resilience.
- Winning feels great, but growing feels even better. Both the trophy and the mistake shaped who I became that day.
- The way we respond to failure creates our personal narrative. Make yours a story of kindness, courage, and curiosity.
