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I was bullied by a few people who were much older than me. I went to camp to learn boxing. I was 12, and my coach was 24. I felt like if I could fight him, I could stand up to anyone.

I was made fun of a lot in high school because of the way I sound and the way I was.

When I was 15, I decided to take up the sport seriously, so I went down to the Y.M.C.A. My first day there, this little Italian guy beat my brains out. I decided to quit. Then I realized I really wanted to be a fighter. I worked at it, went back, and that little Italian guy didn't beat me up no more.

The only way I could get comfortable around people was to make them laugh. I was an obedient girl, and humor was my one form of rebellion. I used comedy to deflect. Like, 'Hey, check out my zit!' - you know, making fun of yourself before someone else has a chance to.

Though I was not a belligerent kid, I do not think I ever passed up a good opportunity to fight.

I'm a very respectful fighter, I don't get out of character and start talking crazy, but if you don't want to fight a fighter, or you don't think it's a good style, or it's just not time, then say that.

In some ways that fight gave me more respect around the world and helped me be even more popular because so many people felt my pain and saw that I was robbed.

My father was military, so I traveled a lot, so I had 13 to 15 first days in new schools. Bullies transcend culture, unfortunately, and I had to deal with them wherever I went. I knew how to defend myself. But I didn't know how to fight.

I wasn't a bad kid. I was a good kid. But I had gotten in a lot of fights 'cause in the neighborhood I grew up in, that wasn't equated with bad behavior almost. I mean, we'd fought like it was another game. 'You wanna play stick ball today?' 'Nah, let's go fight.'