Yeah I can fight as a brown belt, but imagine my situation.
I didn't, and don't, want my black belt. You guys don't understand. I had to block people from twitter who would send hate daily and I would get emails and messages from complete strangers saying that I'm watering down the sport and should be ashamed to wear a black belt. You think I want that? People hated me so much to take time out of their day to let me know. Fuck no. I want time to grow and people to be nice, it's not like I put the damn thing on my own waist.
But, as it was, I got my black belt. Aside from the fact that Renato Tavares and Rodrigo Cavaca signed for it (both of them mean so much to me), Cyborg held a black belt ceremony for me at his gym as well. Matt Hamilton has been there to push me since day one and has always made sure I never think to highly or to little of myself. And there's Roli. Roli taught me my first armbar and took me from awkward highschool kid to the world champion that I managed to be with his help. I was his and Matt's first black belt. Ever. Roli fucking teared up giving it to me.
And here comes a guy with a good last name who has never seen me roll, never will, and in general doesn't give a shit about me. He, based on some fucking arbitrary set of rules that aren't merit based in the least, tells me he doesn't approve of my black belt and that the only way to compete is to give a big "Fuck you!" to everyone who backed my promotion, take off the belt, and compete again at brown belt.
Hell no.
