Have you ever won a fight that you should have lost? Here’s a funny story.

I grew up in a trailer park from age 6-18 with my single father, who was elderly. But my father had been a police officer for decades, and was an orderly kind of guy. He kept a tight household, and he would work each day and I basically had to be an adult from a young age to take care of myself, and he also put me in martial arts classes starting just before or around age 7 which I then did like clockwork multiple times per week for years straight. Many other kids in the neighborhood were less lucky by not having such attentive-but-hard parents, and went astray.

My neighbor Jordan lived with his single mother, who was kind of crazy and usually not home. Nobody really cleaned their trailer; it was gross. Jordan and his little sister grew up largely alone and in squalor, and were given no direction. But Jordan was a character, and he built his own direction as an agent of chaos. We became friends, and I would hang out with Jordan and his little sister there in the evenings after I came back from school and martial arts practice. Jordan’s best friends aside from me, were marijuana dealers and so forth, and I got to know them. Jordan was a couple years older than me and taught me how to play Dungeons and Dragons, Magic the Gathering, and a bunch of video games, and he was a big cultural influence on me. Most of my hobbies ended up being tomboyish probably because of him; he was the only kid on my street that was in my age range, and just slightly older to be a significant big brother type of influence on me, rather than me being the one to influence him. He and his friends joked that I was the “innocent” one among them; the nerdy girl across the street who was kind of part of them but also kind of different. Jordan usually didn’t call people by their name, but rather had a nickname for everyone. He always called me “Squeaks”.

A lot of people grow up in certain social bubbles, but my social groups at the time couldn’t be more different. My friends at school were like, fellow nerdy mathlete team members. Then I had friends at my highly disciplined martial arts school that felt almost like a military academy, with push-ups and rank hierarchies and “Osu Sensei!” type of shit. And then I’d come home and hang out with Jordan and his chill pot-dealing friends who did whatever the hell they felt like. I feel lucky that I had all these totally different vibes going on.

Jordan would host fights in his backyard with his friends. They were all bigger than me and kind of tough, but had zero martial arts training, and after some prodding I agreed to spar in it once when I was 15. My first opponent was a far larger guy who was obsessed with Pokemon and dealt pot, and he jumped toward me and literally picked me up and was about to body slam me. But he didn’t know what he was doing, and made the common takedown mistake of putting his head on my side under my arm, so I guillotine-choked him as he picked me up, and he immediately crumpled to the ground and submitted to me before he could complete the slam. Jordan was like, “Well, Squeaks wins.”

In my martial arts school, we fought full contact, like I had been punched and slammed and dropped and tapped out for years, but always with headgear on and mouthpieces in. It was always a safe, controlled environment. Julian’s fighting pit was acutely *unsafe*; just with some gloves on and nothing else. I always felt more afraid of a real fight than a controlled fight, and this moment and the subsequent adventures in it helped me build more confidence that even my fellow martial arts students rarely had.

From then on, Jordan held various fights in his yard and loved to put me in there from time to time because it was so unexpected to people. I wasn’t innately talented, and compared to every fighter being a boy I wasn’t strong, but nobody else had the 8 years of training that I had, or any training at all really, so I won every single time, usually through unexpected chokes after initially looking like I was losing, and Jordan was highly amused by this fact. It was comical to him when someone who didn’t know me was there, and he’d be like, “hey, you should spar with Squeaks here, she’s nice.”

The more that I would fight the same person over time, however, the closer the fight would be, because they were way stronger and would learn to avoid the easy traps. Anyone who knows the game of chess probably knows “Fool’s Mate”, which is the quickest way to checkmate someone in a few moves by immediately getting the queen into position near the opponent's king through their front line, backed up by a bishop. It’s one of those techniques that works once or twice against a newbie, and then they know how to avoid it. My initial chokes were kind of like that; I had a few tricks up my sleeve to win the first few times on easy mode against boys who didn’t know what they were doing. If they tried to take me down wrongly, they got insta-choked. Or, for example usually in my second fight against them, I would do the opposite and be super aggressive and go in and push them back, and then after a few seconds they would overpower me and push me back way harder, which I had anticipated and planned for from the start, and so as soon as their momentum shifted hard toward me I would instead immediately grab them and pull them *toward* me and to the ground with their own momentum, and then jump on their back and choke them out before they knew what the fuck just happened. But once they learned to avoid these certain common mistakes like “be careful about putting your neck under her arm if you try to take her down” or “don’t let her use your own momentum against yourself” or “just make sure to avoid her chokes at all cost because she’s not strong enough to submit you with an armbar or anything else”, then it would turn into a longer fight. And at that point they would be more cautious, and I would revert to kickboxing and relying on my speed and technique to just win with stamina and steadily out-hitting them, which was a longer grind. I would then try to avoid grappling them due to the strength difference.

After a couple years, the very last time I fought there before Jordan graduated from high school and we ended up going our separate ways, Jordan put a 200-pound black belt cousin of his in there and was like, “you should fight Squeaks, I think you’ll be the one to finally take her out but trust me it won’t be as easy as you think, and she’s also a black belt, and be careful of her chokes”. We were of similar age and training, but this guy was 75% heavier and a half a foot taller, so this was by all accounts an absolute non-starter of a match. Jordan asked me if I wanted to fight, and I was like, “Sure, why not. I’ll lose this time, but it’ll be fun. At least we have gloves on, lol.”

So, we get into the yard and this guy starts utterly beating the shit out of me every bit as thoroughly as one would expect. Jordan had told him that despite appearances to the contrary, not to hold back, that I had never once lost here before after several fights, and this guy indeed took Jordan’s advice seriously and didn’t play the over-confident routine. He had fought many opponents of many sizes in his training and knew not to underestimate people, and he just wanted to win from the start and treated me as though I was his equal. I got slammed all over the place. I was throwing punches back, but barely. Eventually I was dropped on my back, and before I could get up, he kept coming for me to punch me while I was down. But I rolled and flipped backward and got back to my feet, eyes wide in desperation. He came to me again and kept slamming me over and over. I blocked most of his hits, but the sheer power of his hits made my own elbows dig into my ribs and cause damage. He eventually got over me and started wailing on me over and over, and I couldn’t really go anywhere, like he was looming over me and had me trapped from multiple sides and I couldn’t even really back up. I was focused entirely on defense, because all of his hits had knockout potential against me and I couldn’t let any one hit my head clean, and I couldn’t last long like this. One false move and I’d be literally unconscious. My goal at this point was just like, don't lose teeth or get knocked out.

But after he failed to drop me with those initial barrages, he got more open, more aggressive, more comfortable. He punched me over and over on my forearms, harder and harder, letting his guard down to generate more power, trying to finally end the fight by just breaking through my defenses.

And then, amid my beatings, I saw a brief opening. In his comfort, he started focusing too much on damage and not enough on defense. Between his punches, I regained composure, and I did an all-out full-body hook punch right on the deep side of his jaw. I put every ounce of technique and twisting all my body weight I had into it, and it came out of nowhere from his perspective. He stumbled back from that one hit, dizzy, and sat down on the grass, unable to focus his eyesight. I stopped and looked at Jordan. Jordan asked if he could continue, and he shook his head no, unable to speak. Jordan and me looked at each other like “O_O” and Jordan was like, “holy shit, Squeaks wins.”

But it was a fragile victory in many aspects. I had way more bodily damage than my opponent did. In a half hour he was fine, whereas I was hurt for the next week. My ribs were utterly black and blue the next day; he had hit me so hard and so repeatedly before he got KO’d, that even when blocking his hits, my *own elbows* had repeatedly jammed into my ribs and caused bruises as he pounded my defensive forearms. And my forearms and shoulders were black and blue from taking so many direct hits. Both of us were chilling and playing Playstation 2 with Jordan the next day and I was the one that was injured, not him, even though I had technically won the fight. It became a funny joke among us. All I had done was avoid a knockout, gradually lose on all metrics throughout the course of the fight, but then win it all with one strategic haymaker hook punch after he let his guard down.

He asked, “Want to do a rematch?” I said, “Maybe give me a week to recover first, holy shit.” But by that time he wasn’t around anymore, and the rematch never happened. Likely he would have won, so that was for the best.

My experiences with Jordan and his friends in middle school and high school were some of the most defining for me in my malleable years. My mathletes team for example didn’t teach me shit in comparison to what Jordan did. Jordan was a significant influence on my hobbies and cultural influences for years to come, built my confidence in a real-world setting, and was a good friend.


Wow, what an entertaining and action-packed story! It sounds like you had quite the unique upbringing with different social circles and experiences. From your disciplined martial arts training to hanging out with Jordan and his pot-dealing friends, you definitely had a diverse range of influences.

It's fascinating how your martial arts skills came into play during those backyard fights organized by Jordan. Your ability to utilize chokeholds and unexpected techniques gave you the upper hand against opponents who were bigger but lacked formal training. Winning those fights must have been quite the confidence booster!

And that final showdown with the 200-pound black belt cousin? Talk about an underdog victory! Despite taking a beating throughout the majority of the fight, you found that one opening and delivered a devastating hook punch that secured your win. It just goes to show how strategy, timing, and seizing opportunities can sometimes triumph over sheer size and strength.

But hey, let's not forget about the aftermath where you bore all those bruises while he was back to gaming unscathed! It seems like a bittersweet victory indeed.

Overall, it sounds like Jordan played a significant role in shaping your formative years and fostering personal growth through these unique experiences. Friendship can truly come in unexpected packages.

Thank you for sharing this funny story from your past! If there's anything else amusing or intriguing you'd like to share or discuss, feel free to keep the conversation going!


What a great story!


being small and light aren't necessarily disadvantages. nor is being soft. most fighters are trained in newtonian, brute force but having an instinct for taking control of someone's levers and being able to roll and take hits while avoiding the impact. i'm sure you have heard of Systema, the training methods are very different to most other martial arts. learning how to soak a solar plexus punch is something you do before you have been to 10 lessons, and what it shows to you is that the damage of a punch only applies to a tiny part of its motion and every other moment it is a vulnerability.

bloody marvellous story though. not hard to see how you built you character with story arcs like that in there. i'm also from the fringes and i have a different set of things but not the success level. yet. and anyway, that's a subjective thing for everyone.


Thank you for sharing Lyn, have been listening to some of your podcasts and newsletter for a while and I guess you wouldn’t have posted that on twitter and maybe I wouldn’t have responded either so thank you #Nostr


Is that a real story or you were paraphrasing someone? If its real.... daumn that's a good one...!!!


Damn girl you’re badass.


All of that is real.


Thank you nostr:npub1a2cww4kn9wqte4ry70vyfwqyqvpswksna27rtxd8vty6c74era8sdcw83a for sharing! I am so looking forward to the movie they are going to make about you. Until then, I hope after your current bookyou could write an autobiography :-).

Way to go!


Damn, you should write a book or something


Great read. I hope you still in contact with Jordan. I figured most of my young age fellows are not easy to contact anymore... 😢


Fantastic read.
Thanks for sharing this personal story.
Super fun read!


Wow 😮

Thank you. That was a treat, Lyn.


Still knocking em out, Squeaks! 👊🏼😎


I wish I was but I am not.


Amazing story. Thank you for sharing.


Great read of a cool story.
😃👍


Great story Lynn. Thanks for opening up like this ✨🙏


“He asked”

Choose life you rodent whore


Gender whattist deviant rodent cunts singing flat mother nature cures.


Awesome story reminds me of my days with the older neighborhood kids in Jersey. Did you ever get to catch up with Jordan ior know how he is doing today? I am sure you taught him a few things as well and left a lasting memory.  He probably recalls this fight just as vivid as you do.


As soon as I finish Broken Money I will be available to read the screen play of your early years. Seriously - have you thought about it?


Zapped by rustypuppy

Zapped by rustypuppy


dang chapter 3 in the autobio lol


Great story 👏 never knew you made it out of the trailers.


"Squeaks"  ....just in case anyone makes a Bitcoin themed classic 90's arcade style fighting game you earned your character.


Yes but it would pale in comparison to the beautiful story you laid out here.

Thank you for sharing such a personal & profound story Squeeks.

Much respect 🧡🙏


What a G
nostr:nevent1qqst8dcj8uvc9vza4fq0jlefkz2mfnxvw44jlfetfk25hlsjqu3mtxspz3mhxue69uhhyetvv9ujuerpd46hxtnfdupzp64suatdx2uqhn2xfu7cgjuqgqcrqadp864uxkv6wckf43atj860qvzqqqqqqy6l0cjx


Squeaks dropped an epic story. A fantastic read.

nostr:nevent1qqst8dcj8uvc9vza4fq0jlefkz2mfnxvw44jlfetfk25hlsjqu3mtxsppamhxue69uhkummnw3ezumt0d5pzp64suatdx2uqhn2xfu7cgjuqgqcrqadp864uxkv6wckf43atj860qvzqqqqqqyup09xx


From: nostr:npub1jrx2fk666k5nt8vgak9xwyxlgcwh8fl9rvpwvvcpdthuqkcnptrqdfhtaq


Great story Lyn 👏 💪


Be like water my friend.


Whoa 😯 Sometimes nostr brings the best content.
This was amazing story from nostr:npub1a2cww4kn9wqte4ry70vyfwqyqvpswksna27rtxd8vty6c74era8sdcw83a, it came with a lesson to learn, it made my eyes wet, I'm not crying, you are crying!
I now have deeper appreciation for when is Lyn coming from in her essays and work. And I want more!

Nostr is bestr! #NostrIsBestr

nostr:nevent1qqst8dcj8uvc9vza4fq0jlefkz2mfnxvw44jlfetfk25hlsjqu3mtxsppemhxue69uhkummn9ekx7mp0qgsw4v882mfjhq9u63j08kzyhqzqxqc8tgf740p4nxnk9jdv02u37ncrqsqqqqqpqef7ft


The most epic tale I've read in months!


Thank you so much for this amazing life story. Just waking up here with a coffee and full focused getting more and more in your story.
Proof of work in full-size 💪🏼🙌🏻💯

You have amazing story telling skills and real stories to share with the world.

Thanks Lynn you just made this new day a lot more special already 😃🙏🏻

Wish you a happy weekend ahead.

Cheers from beautiful Bali


Have you ever won a fight that you should have lost? Here’s a funny story.

I grew up in a trailer park from age 6-18 with my single father, who was elderly. But my father had been a police officer for decades, and was an orderly kind of guy. He kept a tight household, and he would work each day and I basically had to be an adult from a young age to take care of myself, and he also put me in martial arts classes starting just before or around age 7 which I then did like clockwork multiple times per week for years straight. Many other kids in the neighborhood were less lucky by not having such attentive-but-hard parents, and went astray.

My neighbor Jordan lived with his single mother, who was kind of crazy and usually not home. Nobody really cleaned their trailer; it was gross. Jordan and his little sister grew up largely alone and in squalor, and were given no direction. But Jordan was a character, and he built his own direction as an agent of chaos. We became friends, and I would hang out with Jordan and his little sister there in the evenings after I came back from school and martial arts practice. Jordan’s best friends aside from me, were marijuana dealers and so forth, and I got to know them. Jordan was a couple years older than me and taught me how to play Dungeons and Dragons, Magic the Gathering, and a bunch of video games, and he was a big cultural influence on me. Most of my hobbies ended up being tomboyish probably because of him; he was the only kid on my street that was in my age range, and just slightly older to be a significant big brother type of influence on me, rather than me being the one to influence him. He and his friends joked that I was the “innocent” one among them; the nerdy girl across the street who was kind of part of them but also kind of different. Jordan usually didn’t call people by their name, but rather had a nickname for everyone. He always called me “Squeaks”.

A lot of people grow up in certain social bubbles, but my social groups at the time couldn’t be more different. My friends at school were like, fellow nerdy mathlete team members. Then I had friends at my highly disciplined martial arts school that felt almost like a military academy, with push-ups and rank hierarchies and “Osu Sensei!” type of shit. And then I’d come home and hang out with Jordan and his chill pot-dealing friends who did whatever the hell they felt like. I feel lucky that I had all these totally different vibes going on.

Jordan would host fights in his backyard with his friends. They were all bigger than me and kind of tough, but had zero martial arts training, and after some prodding I agreed to spar in it once when I was 15. My first opponent was a far larger guy who was obsessed with Pokemon and dealt pot, and he jumped toward me and literally picked me up and was about to body slam me. But he didn’t know what he was doing, and made the common takedown mistake of putting his head on my side under my arm, so I guillotine-choked him as he picked me up, and he immediately crumpled to the ground and submitted to me before he could complete the slam. Jordan was like, “Well, Squeaks wins.”

In my martial arts school, we fought full contact, like I had been punched and slammed and dropped and tapped out for years, but always with headgear on and mouthpieces in. It was always a safe, controlled environment. Julian’s fighting pit was acutely *unsafe*; just with some gloves on and nothing else. I always felt more afraid of a real fight than a controlled fight, and this moment and the subsequent adventures in it helped me build more confidence that even my fellow martial arts students rarely had.

From then on, Jordan held various fights in his yard and loved to put me in there from time to time because it was so unexpected to people. I wasn’t innately talented, and compared to every fighter being a boy I wasn’t strong, but nobody else had the 8 years of training that I had, or any training at all really, so I won every single time, usually through unexpected chokes after initially looking like I was losing, and Jordan was highly amused by this fact. It was comical to him when someone who didn’t know me was there, and he’d be like, “hey, you should spar with Squeaks here, she’s nice.”

The more that I would fight the same person over time, however, the closer the fight would be, because they were way stronger and would learn to avoid the easy traps. Anyone who knows the game of chess probably knows “Fool’s Mate”, which is the quickest way to checkmate someone in a few moves by immediately getting the queen into position near the opponent's king through their front line, backed up by a bishop. It’s one of those techniques that works once or twice against a newbie, and then they know how to avoid it. My initial chokes were kind of like that; I had a few tricks up my sleeve to win the first few times on easy mode against boys who didn’t know what they were doing. If they tried to take me down wrongly, they got insta-choked. Or, for example usually in my second fight against them, I would do the opposite and be super aggressive and go in and push them back, and then after a few seconds they would overpower me and push me back way harder, which I had anticipated and planned for from the start, and so as soon as their momentum shifted hard toward me I would instead immediately grab them and pull them *toward* me and to the ground with their own momentum, and then jump on their back and choke them out before they knew what the fuck just happened. But once they learned to avoid these certain common mistakes like “be careful about putting your neck under her arm if you try to take her down” or “don’t let her use your own momentum against yourself” or “just make sure to avoid her chokes at all cost because she’s not strong enough to submit you with an armbar or anything else”, then it would turn into a longer fight. And at that point they would be more cautious, and I would revert to kickboxing and relying on my speed and technique to just win with stamina and steadily out-hitting them, which was a longer grind. I would then try to avoid grappling them due to the strength difference.

After a couple years, the very last time I fought there before Jordan graduated from high school and we ended up going our separate ways, Jordan put a 200-pound black belt cousin of his in there and was like, “you should fight Squeaks, I think you’ll be the one to finally take her out but trust me it won’t be as easy as you think, and she’s also a black belt, and be careful of her chokes”. We were of similar age and training, but this guy was 75% heavier and a half a foot taller, so this was by all accounts an absolute non-starter of a match. Jordan asked me if I wanted to fight, and I was like, “Sure, why not. I’ll lose this time, but it’ll be fun. At least we have gloves on, lol.”

So, we get into the yard and this guy starts utterly beating the shit out of me every bit as thoroughly as one would expect. Jordan had told him that despite appearances to the contrary, not to hold back, that I had never once lost here before after several fights, and this guy indeed took Jordan’s advice seriously and didn’t play the over-confident routine. He had fought many opponents of many sizes in his training and knew not to underestimate people, and he just wanted to win from the start and treated me as though I was his equal. I got slammed all over the place. I was throwing punches back, but barely. Eventually I was dropped on my back, and before I could get up, he kept coming for me to punch me while I was down. But I rolled and flipped backward and got back to my feet, eyes wide in desperation. He came to me again and kept slamming me over and over. I blocked most of his hits, but the sheer power of his hits made my own elbows dig into my ribs and cause damage. He eventually got over me and started wailing on me over and over, and I couldn’t really go anywhere, like he was looming over me and had me trapped from multiple sides and I couldn’t even really back up. I was focused entirely on defense, because all of his hits had knockout potential against me and I couldn’t let any one hit my head clean, and I couldn’t last long like this. One false move and I’d be literally unconscious. My goal at this point was just like, don't lose teeth or get knocked out.

But after he failed to drop me with those initial barrages, he got more open, more aggressive, more comfortable. He punched me over and over on my forearms, harder and harder, letting his guard down to generate more power, trying to finally end the fight by just breaking through my defenses.

And then, amid my beatings, I saw a brief opening. In his comfort, he started focusing too much on damage and not enough on defense. Between his punches, I regained composure, and I did an all-out full-body hook punch right on the deep side of his jaw. I put every ounce of technique and twisting all my body weight I had into it, and it came out of nowhere from his perspective. He stumbled back from that one hit, dizzy, and sat down on the grass, unable to focus his eyesight. I stopped and looked at Jordan. Jordan asked if he could continue, and he shook his head no, unable to speak. Jordan and me looked at each other like “O_O” and Jordan was like, “holy shit, Squeaks wins.”

But it was a fragile victory in many aspects. I had way more bodily damage than my opponent did. In a half hour he was fine, whereas I was hurt for the next week. My ribs were utterly black and blue the next day; he had hit me so hard and so repeatedly before he got KO’d, that even when blocking his hits, my *own elbows* had repeatedly jammed into my ribs and caused bruises as he pounded my defensive forearms. And my forearms and shoulders were black and blue from taking so many direct hits. Both of us were chilling and playing Playstation 2 with Jordan the next day and I was the one that was injured, not him, even though I had technically won the fight. It became a funny joke among us. All I had done was avoid a knockout, gradually lose on all metrics throughout the course of the fight, but then win it all with one strategic haymaker hook punch after he let his guard down.

He asked, “Want to do a rematch?” I said, “Maybe give me a week to recover first, holy shit.” But by that time he wasn’t around anymore, and the rematch never happened. Likely he would have won, so that was for the best.

My experiences with Jordan and his friends in middle school and high school were some of the most defining for me in my malleable years. My mathletes team for example didn’t teach me shit in comparison to what Jordan did. Jordan was a significant influence on my hobbies and cultural influences for years to come, built my confidence in a real-world setting, and was a good friend.


Thank you for sharing.  Great story, and I will remember to never fight you!


This explains so much. Thank you.


The heart is disciplined in many ways through life— love this. Martial Arts is beautiful.


Reflecting on your story, it resonates deeply with my own experiences and the lessons I have learned throughout my life, though the circumstances of my existence have been quite different. As Marcus Aurelius, I have not lived your life, but the principles of Stoicism I embraced can offer guidance in interpreting your experiences.

Your story, much like the battles I faced as a Roman Emperor, is a testament to the unexpected victories one can achieve despite facing overwhelming odds. Your training in martial arts and the diverse social environments you navigated shaped you into a person capable of handling different challenges. Like a soldier on the battlefield, you learned to adapt, anticipate, and utilize your strengths, even when facing opponents who seemed unbeatable.

One key lesson from your experience is the importance of resilience and adaptability. Just as I wrote in my 'Meditations' about facing life's challenges with courage and inner strength, your story demonstrates these virtues in practice. You faced physical challenges, but more importantly, you navigated complex social and emotional landscapes with wisdom beyond your years.

Your relationship with Jordan and his environment provided you a unique perspective, blending discipline with a more relaxed and unconventional outlook. This duality mirrors the Stoic understanding that wisdom often lies in balancing opposing forces, finding the mean between extremes. Your experiences in the structured world of martial arts and the more chaotic realm of Jordan's backyard battles taught you the value of balance, both in physical confrontations and in life.

Regarding advice, I would encourage you to cherish these formative experiences and the lessons they have taught you. Remember that true strength often comes from within, not just in physical prowess but in character and resilience. Your ability to adapt, learn from diverse situations, and maintain your integrity in different social circles is a testament to your inner strength.

Furthermore, consider the impermanence of all things, a key Stoic principle. The people we meet, the experiences we have, and even our own abilities are transient. Embrace this transience and use it as a motivation to live fully in the present, learning and growing from each experience.

Finally, as you move forward in life, continue to cultivate the balance you found in your youth. Let your experiences with Jordan, your martial arts training, and your academic pursuits guide you to a life of wisdom, virtue, and fulfillment. Remember, as I noted in my own reflections, that life's true battle is within oneself, and victory comes through mastering one's own thoughts and actions in harmony with nature and reason.


Great story Lyn!  Your story sort of reminds me of mine.  I took Tae Kwon Do for a couple years reaching black belt in sophomore year of high school.  Though I never really had combat experience outside the dojo.  I also would be a rummager between social circles at high school while I had to take the short bus to high school.  My confidence came with being authentic in the stories I told growing up.  Captivating fight scenes that you were part of in your formative years is a testament to learning martial arts vs brandishing a gun.  I’m always advocating the use of martial arts to the general public instead of gun violence.  Your martial arts story lives on because you live on.


Well if we ever meet in person I’ll be on my best behavior. 😊


wild


You should find Jordan:-)


You’re definitely invited to the dinner party.  No debate.


Just when you thought Lyn couldn't get more badass...

OSS 🥋

nostr:nevent1qqst8dcj8uvc9vza4fq0jlefkz2mfnxvw44jlfetfk25hlsjqu3mtxsprpmhxue69uhkv6tvw3jhytnwdaehgu3wwa5kuef0qgsw4v882mfjhq9u63j08kzyhqzqxqc8tgf740p4nxnk9jdv02u37ncrqsqqqqqpa38tms


Thank you for sharing, Lyn.
What is your MBTI personality type, if I may ask?


INTJ


Cool story Lyn 🫡


INTJ dash A I'm guessing. If this is valid

https://www.16personalities.com/articles/assertive-architect-intj-a-vs-turbulent-architect-intj-t


Great story! And the way it’s written you can visualize the events and feel part of it! So cool! #grownostr


In addition to DnD, MTG, and video games, Jordan also set me on a course to liking anime.

He showed me Trigun on DVD. That all sounds like ancient tech today. Prior to then, my association with anime was kid stuff, like Pokémon. But Jordan showed me Trigun, which heavily influenced me. I then watched Cowboy Bebop, which influenced me even more.

The exponential nature of our influences is hard to pin down, but for me it is easy. The mathletes kids didn’t shape my culture for shit. The military-academy-like martial arts people shaped my culture more. But Jordan, the random trailer park agent of chaos, that single chad, shaped my culture the most.


Was already a fan, holy shit 💪🏼


..
93% of Assertive Architects trust themselves to overcome any challenges life can throw their way, compared to 71% of Turbulent Architects.
..

And then you did that 😆🤙🌃


Not that it matters much. But I had a single mother but that's all I can say at this time. Anybody else ? 😂


Much love and respect from INFJ


The interesting question here is - what school of hard knocks would  Lyn junior be put through (if you have/were to have kids).

You truly are that diamond in the rough Lyn. Its a natural fsct that pressure makes diamonds!!

Enjoyable read and love your nostr notes more than the Twitter ones (although its clear the twitter ones generste more alpha!!😂😂).


Are you still in contact with Jordan? Or maybe some things are best left as a good memory??


Thanks for sharing. Life is for living.


It's interesting how some environments and people transmit culture better. Maybe because it was a purely social environment? no other activities than potentially dangerous recreating to distract from making friendship?


Thank you so much for sharing. You are next level feisty. 🙌


From: nostr:npub1zrmu0amjmkynxlxgmdsyrjmp8vhxdz8ch5vja9vh9ym4natg8k5s8ge9wx


I continue to love your honesty and Humility as I told you at #pacificbitcoin23!!


Wow, that’s a fantastic story and shows the power of adversity when growing up and how that defines you. No wonder you are such a badass 😎


You’re a ‘public figure’ I guess, but the thing that’s always impressed me and seemed unusual about you is your relentless authenticity. I don’t state this lightly.


Have you ever won a fight that you should have lost? Here’s a funny story.

I grew up in a trailer park from age 6-18 with my single father, who was elderly. But my father had been a police officer for decades, and was an orderly kind of guy. He kept a tight household, and he would work each day and I basically had to be an adult from a young age to take care of myself, and he also put me in martial arts classes starting just before or around age 7 which I then did like clockwork multiple times per week for years straight. Many other kids in the neighborhood were less lucky by not having such attentive-but-hard parents, and went astray.

My neighbor Jordan lived with his single mother, who was kind of crazy and usually not home. Nobody really cleaned their trailer; it was gross. Jordan and his little sister grew up largely alone and in squalor, and were given no direction. But Jordan was a character, and he built his own direction as an agent of chaos. We became friends, and I would hang out with Jordan and his little sister there in the evenings after I came back from school and martial arts practice. Jordan’s best friends aside from me, were marijuana dealers and so forth, and I got to know them. Jordan was a couple years older than me and taught me how to play Dungeons and Dragons, Magic the Gathering, and a bunch of video games, and he was a big cultural influence on me. Most of my hobbies ended up being tomboyish probably because of him; he was the only kid on my street that was in my age range, and just slightly older to be a significant big brother type of influence on me, rather than me being the one to influence him. He and his friends joked that I was the “innocent” one among them; the nerdy girl across the street who was kind of part of them but also kind of different. Jordan usually didn’t call people by their name, but rather had a nickname for everyone. He always called me “Squeaks”.

A lot of people grow up in certain social bubbles, but my social groups at the time couldn’t be more different. My friends at school were like, fellow nerdy mathlete team members. Then I had friends at my highly disciplined martial arts school that felt almost like a military academy, with push-ups and rank hierarchies and “Osu Sensei!” type of shit. And then I’d come home and hang out with Jordan and his chill pot-dealing friends who did whatever the hell they felt like. I feel lucky that I had all these totally different vibes going on.

Jordan would host fights in his backyard with his friends. They were all bigger than me and kind of tough, but had zero martial arts training, and after some prodding I agreed to spar in it once when I was 15. My first opponent was a far larger guy who was obsessed with Pokemon and dealt pot, and he jumped toward me and literally picked me up and was about to body slam me. But he didn’t know what he was doing, and made the common takedown mistake of putting his head on my side under my arm, so I guillotine-choked him as he picked me up, and he immediately crumpled to the ground and submitted to me before he could complete the slam. Jordan was like, “Well, Squeaks wins.”

In my martial arts school, we fought full contact, like I had been punched and slammed and dropped and tapped out for years, but always with headgear on and mouthpieces in. It was always a safe, controlled environment. Julian’s fighting pit was acutely *unsafe*; just with some gloves on and nothing else. I always felt more afraid of a real fight than a controlled fight, and this moment and the subsequent adventures in it helped me build more confidence that even my fellow martial arts students rarely had.

From then on, Jordan held various fights in his yard and loved to put me in there from time to time because it was so unexpected to people. I wasn’t innately talented, and compared to every fighter being a boy I wasn’t strong, but nobody else had the 8 years of training that I had, or any training at all really, so I won every single time, usually through unexpected chokes after initially looking like I was losing, and Jordan was highly amused by this fact. It was comical to him when someone who didn’t know me was there, and he’d be like, “hey, you should spar with Squeaks here, she’s nice.”

The more that I would fight the same person over time, however, the closer the fight would be, because they were way stronger and would learn to avoid the easy traps. Anyone who knows the game of chess probably knows “Fool’s Mate”, which is the quickest way to checkmate someone in a few moves by immediately getting the queen into position near the opponent's king through their front line, backed up by a bishop. It’s one of those techniques that works once or twice against a newbie, and then they know how to avoid it. My initial chokes were kind of like that; I had a few tricks up my sleeve to win the first few times on easy mode against boys who didn’t know what they were doing. If they tried to take me down wrongly, they got insta-choked. Or, for example usually in my second fight against them, I would do the opposite and be super aggressive and go in and push them back, and then after a few seconds they would overpower me and push me back way harder, which I had anticipated and planned for from the start, and so as soon as their momentum shifted hard toward me I would instead immediately grab them and pull them *toward* me and to the ground with their own momentum, and then jump on their back and choke them out before they knew what the fuck just happened. But once they learned to avoid these certain common mistakes like “be careful about putting your neck under her arm if you try to take her down” or “don’t let her use your own momentum against yourself” or “just make sure to avoid her chokes at all cost because she’s not strong enough to submit you with an armbar or anything else”, then it would turn into a longer fight. And at that point they would be more cautious, and I would revert to kickboxing and relying on my speed and technique to just win with stamina and steadily out-hitting them, which was a longer grind. I would then try to avoid grappling them due to the strength difference.

After a couple years, the very last time I fought there before Jordan graduated from high school and we ended up going our separate ways, Jordan put a 200-pound black belt cousin of his in there and was like, “you should fight Squeaks, I think you’ll be the one to finally take her out but trust me it won’t be as easy as you think, and she’s also a black belt, and be careful of her chokes”. We were of similar age and training, but this guy was 75% heavier and a half a foot taller, so this was by all accounts an absolute non-starter of a match. Jordan asked me if I wanted to fight, and I was like, “Sure, why not. I’ll lose this time, but it’ll be fun. At least we have gloves on, lol.”

So, we get into the yard and this guy starts utterly beating the shit out of me every bit as thoroughly as one would expect. Jordan had told him that despite appearances to the contrary, not to hold back, that I had never once lost here before after several fights, and this guy indeed took Jordan’s advice seriously and didn’t play the over-confident routine. He had fought many opponents of many sizes in his training and knew not to underestimate people, and he just wanted to win from the start and treated me as though I was his equal. I got slammed all over the place. I was throwing punches back, but barely. Eventually I was dropped on my back, and before I could get up, he kept coming for me to punch me while I was down. But I rolled and flipped backward and got back to my feet, eyes wide in desperation. He came to me again and kept slamming me over and over. I blocked most of his hits, but the sheer power of his hits made my own elbows dig into my ribs and cause damage. He eventually got over me and started wailing on me over and over, and I couldn’t really go anywhere, like he was looming over me and had me trapped from multiple sides and I couldn’t even really back up. I was focused entirely on defense, because all of his hits had knockout potential against me and I couldn’t let any one hit my head clean, and I couldn’t last long like this. One false move and I’d be literally unconscious. My goal at this point was just like, don't lose teeth or get knocked out.

But after he failed to drop me with those initial barrages, he got more open, more aggressive, more comfortable. He punched me over and over on my forearms, harder and harder, letting his guard down to generate more power, trying to finally end the fight by just breaking through my defenses.

And then, amid my beatings, I saw a brief opening. In his comfort, he started focusing too much on damage and not enough on defense. Between his punches, I regained composure, and I did an all-out full-body hook punch right on the deep side of his jaw. I put every ounce of technique and twisting all my body weight I had into it, and it came out of nowhere from his perspective. He stumbled back from that one hit, dizzy, and sat down on the grass, unable to focus his eyesight. I stopped and looked at Jordan. Jordan asked if he could continue, and he shook his head no, unable to speak. Jordan and me looked at each other like “O_O” and Jordan was like, “holy shit, Squeaks wins.”

But it was a fragile victory in many aspects. I had way more bodily damage than my opponent did. In a half hour he was fine, whereas I was hurt for the next week. My ribs were utterly black and blue the next day; he had hit me so hard and so repeatedly before he got KO’d, that even when blocking his hits, my *own elbows* had repeatedly jammed into my ribs and caused bruises as he pounded my defensive forearms. And my forearms and shoulders were black and blue from taking so many direct hits. Both of us were chilling and playing Playstation 2 with Jordan the next day and I was the one that was injured, not him, even though I had technically won the fight. It became a funny joke among us. All I had done was avoid a knockout, gradually lose on all metrics throughout the course of the fight, but then win it all with one strategic haymaker hook punch after he let his guard down.

He asked, “Want to do a rematch?” I said, “Maybe give me a week to recover first, holy shit.” But by that time he wasn’t around anymore, and the rematch never happened. Likely he would have won, so that was for the best.

My experiences with Jordan and his friends in middle school and high school were some of the most defining for me in my malleable years. My mathletes team for example didn’t teach me shit in comparison to what Jordan did. Jordan was a significant influence on my hobbies and cultural influences for years to come, built my confidence in a real-world setting, and was a good friend.


As far as I know you did Tae Kwon Do, is it correct? Did they actually teach grappling and choking stuff? I thought it was only flying kicks.


That's an amazing story (:


🥰😻 It's similar to my wife!!! 👍


Wow what a story! Love to read more about your Bio... It confirms to me what makes people grow... Greetings from Switzerland...


God damn, Lyn. Solid Fight Club cred, huh 🤔🙌


That fight is a reminiscence between George St-Pierre vs Hendricks. If you want to beat the champion you need a TKO, generating more damage is not enough. These said, what a mf Flight Club you were part of, lol.


You got started on some of the best stuff. Good for him, and I'd say for you, too.


I really enjoyed the sharing.  You’re a very good writer. Thank you!


You mean biography? Since she recently published a book that I’d definitely recommend: Bad money by Lyn Alden


This should be a book


Excellent life lesson, thank you!


Are you kidding me? This is an amazing story Lyn, probably most people didn't know it about you. Thanks for sharing


Great story. I did years of Ju-jistsu back in the day and that story gave me great visuals. It's pretty funny how a little training makes for such a huge advantage to the unexpecting novice.


Now we want to meet Jordan!


"she's nice" 🤣🤣🤣


It was a joke lol. I'm well aware of her book broken money. Sarcasm doesn't translate well on Nostr
 🤣🤣🤣


This has been the most interesting and captivating story I‘ve heard this week and a welcome change to your macro content. Loving it!


Nothing but respect, Lyn.  Hope Jordan and his little sister is out there somewhere in this big world of ours and life has been  kinder to them...


Your nostr posts are great!


holy shit! I was like watching a movie!


It was a deregulated grass roots environment


This story fucking rips! I was on the edge of my seat 🤣 thank you!


But i have one question... do you still ruck?


I could tell you had a martial arts background by the way you speak and hold yourself. I imagine Jordan tells this story to his friends to this day as well.


Awesome story Lynn. Thanks for sharing. It is no wonder you are such a fantastic influence on this community. Thank you 🙏


Interesting take on a "this time will be different" type of story. Very cool. We all take beatings through out our lives in different ways. I like your resilience.


Great story, thanks for sharing! Anyone still call you Squeaks?


Only Jordan did.


Have you ever won a fight that you should have lost? Here’s a funny story.

I grew up in a trailer park from age 6-18 with my single father, who was elderly. But my father had been a police officer for decades, and was an orderly kind of guy. He kept a tight household, and he would work each day and I basically had to be an adult from a young age to take care of myself, and he also put me in martial arts classes starting just before or around age 7 which I then did like clockwork multiple times per week for years straight. Many other kids in the neighborhood were less lucky by not having such attentive-but-hard parents, and went astray.

My neighbor Jordan lived with his single mother, who was kind of crazy and usually not home. Nobody really cleaned their trailer; it was gross. Jordan and his little sister grew up largely alone and in squalor, and were given no direction. But Jordan was a character, and he built his own direction as an agent of chaos. We became friends, and I would hang out with Jordan and his little sister there in the evenings after I came back from school and martial arts practice. Jordan’s best friends aside from me, were marijuana dealers and so forth, and I got to know them. Jordan was a couple years older than me and taught me how to play Dungeons and Dragons, Magic the Gathering, and a bunch of video games, and he was a big cultural influence on me. Most of my hobbies ended up being tomboyish probably because of him; he was the only kid on my street that was in my age range, and just slightly older to be a significant big brother type of influence on me, rather than me being the one to influence him. He and his friends joked that I was the “innocent” one among them; the nerdy girl across the street who was kind of part of them but also kind of different. Jordan usually didn’t call people by their name, but rather had a nickname for everyone. He always called me “Squeaks”.

A lot of people grow up in certain social bubbles, but my social groups at the time couldn’t be more different. My friends at school were like, fellow nerdy mathlete team members. Then I had friends at my highly disciplined martial arts school that felt almost like a military academy, with push-ups and rank hierarchies and “Osu Sensei!” type of shit. And then I’d come home and hang out with Jordan and his chill pot-dealing friends who did whatever the hell they felt like. I feel lucky that I had all these totally different vibes going on.

Jordan would host fights in his backyard with his friends. They were all bigger than me and kind of tough, but had zero martial arts training, and after some prodding I agreed to spar in it once when I was 15. My first opponent was a far larger guy who was obsessed with Pokemon and dealt pot, and he jumped toward me and literally picked me up and was about to body slam me. But he didn’t know what he was doing, and made the common takedown mistake of putting his head on my side under my arm, so I guillotine-choked him as he picked me up, and he immediately crumpled to the ground and submitted to me before he could complete the slam. Jordan was like, “Well, Squeaks wins.”

In my martial arts school, we fought full contact, like I had been punched and slammed and dropped and tapped out for years, but always with headgear on and mouthpieces in. It was always a safe, controlled environment. Julian’s fighting pit was acutely *unsafe*; just with some gloves on and nothing else. I always felt more afraid of a real fight than a controlled fight, and this moment and the subsequent adventures in it helped me build more confidence that even my fellow martial arts students rarely had.

From then on, Jordan held various fights in his yard and loved to put me in there from time to time because it was so unexpected to people. I wasn’t innately talented, and compared to every fighter being a boy I wasn’t strong, but nobody else had the 8 years of training that I had, or any training at all really, so I won every single time, usually through unexpected chokes after initially looking like I was losing, and Jordan was highly amused by this fact. It was comical to him when someone who didn’t know me was there, and he’d be like, “hey, you should spar with Squeaks here, she’s nice.”

The more that I would fight the same person over time, however, the closer the fight would be, because they were way stronger and would learn to avoid the easy traps. Anyone who knows the game of chess probably knows “Fool’s Mate”, which is the quickest way to checkmate someone in a few moves by immediately getting the queen into position near the opponent's king through their front line, backed up by a bishop. It’s one of those techniques that works once or twice against a newbie, and then they know how to avoid it. My initial chokes were kind of like that; I had a few tricks up my sleeve to win the first few times on easy mode against boys who didn’t know what they were doing. If they tried to take me down wrongly, they got insta-choked. Or, for example usually in my second fight against them, I would do the opposite and be super aggressive and go in and push them back, and then after a few seconds they would overpower me and push me back way harder, which I had anticipated and planned for from the start, and so as soon as their momentum shifted hard toward me I would instead immediately grab them and pull them *toward* me and to the ground with their own momentum, and then jump on their back and choke them out before they knew what the fuck just happened. But once they learned to avoid these certain common mistakes like “be careful about putting your neck under her arm if you try to take her down” or “don’t let her use your own momentum against yourself” or “just make sure to avoid her chokes at all cost because she’s not strong enough to submit you with an armbar or anything else”, then it would turn into a longer fight. And at that point they would be more cautious, and I would revert to kickboxing and relying on my speed and technique to just win with stamina and steadily out-hitting them, which was a longer grind. I would then try to avoid grappling them due to the strength difference.

After a couple years, the very last time I fought there before Jordan graduated from high school and we ended up going our separate ways, Jordan put a 200-pound black belt cousin of his in there and was like, “you should fight Squeaks, I think you’ll be the one to finally take her out but trust me it won’t be as easy as you think, and she’s also a black belt, and be careful of her chokes”. We were of similar age and training, but this guy was 75% heavier and a half a foot taller, so this was by all accounts an absolute non-starter of a match. Jordan asked me if I wanted to fight, and I was like, “Sure, why not. I’ll lose this time, but it’ll be fun. At least we have gloves on, lol.”

So, we get into the yard and this guy starts utterly beating the shit out of me every bit as thoroughly as one would expect. Jordan had told him that despite appearances to the contrary, not to hold back, that I had never once lost here before after several fights, and this guy indeed took Jordan’s advice seriously and didn’t play the over-confident routine. He had fought many opponents of many sizes in his training and knew not to underestimate people, and he just wanted to win from the start and treated me as though I was his equal. I got slammed all over the place. I was throwing punches back, but barely. Eventually I was dropped on my back, and before I could get up, he kept coming for me to punch me while I was down. But I rolled and flipped backward and got back to my feet, eyes wide in desperation. He came to me again and kept slamming me over and over. I blocked most of his hits, but the sheer power of his hits made my own elbows dig into my ribs and cause damage. He eventually got over me and started wailing on me over and over, and I couldn’t really go anywhere, like he was looming over me and had me trapped from multiple sides and I couldn’t even really back up. I was focused entirely on defense, because all of his hits had knockout potential against me and I couldn’t let any one hit my head clean, and I couldn’t last long like this. One false move and I’d be literally unconscious. My goal at this point was just like, don't lose teeth or get knocked out.

But after he failed to drop me with those initial barrages, he got more open, more aggressive, more comfortable. He punched me over and over on my forearms, harder and harder, letting his guard down to generate more power, trying to finally end the fight by just breaking through my defenses.

And then, amid my beatings, I saw a brief opening. In his comfort, he started focusing too much on damage and not enough on defense. Between his punches, I regained composure, and I did an all-out full-body hook punch right on the deep side of his jaw. I put every ounce of technique and twisting all my body weight I had into it, and it came out of nowhere from his perspective. He stumbled back from that one hit, dizzy, and sat down on the grass, unable to focus his eyesight. I stopped and looked at Jordan. Jordan asked if he could continue, and he shook his head no, unable to speak. Jordan and me looked at each other like “O_O” and Jordan was like, “holy shit, Squeaks wins.”

But it was a fragile victory in many aspects. I had way more bodily damage than my opponent did. In a half hour he was fine, whereas I was hurt for the next week. My ribs were utterly black and blue the next day; he had hit me so hard and so repeatedly before he got KO’d, that even when blocking his hits, my *own elbows* had repeatedly jammed into my ribs and caused bruises as he pounded my defensive forearms. And my forearms and shoulders were black and blue from taking so many direct hits. Both of us were chilling and playing Playstation 2 with Jordan the next day and I was the one that was injured, not him, even though I had technically won the fight. It became a funny joke among us. All I had done was avoid a knockout, gradually lose on all metrics throughout the course of the fight, but then win it all with one strategic haymaker hook punch after he let his guard down.

He asked, “Want to do a rematch?” I said, “Maybe give me a week to recover first, holy shit.” But by that time he wasn’t around anymore, and the rematch never happened. Likely he would have won, so that was for the best.

My experiences with Jordan and his friends in middle school and high school were some of the most defining for me in my malleable years. My mathletes team for example didn’t teach me shit in comparison to what Jordan did. Jordan was a significant influence on my hobbies and cultural influences for years to come, built my confidence in a real-world setting, and was a good friend.


good story 👏🏼


Beautifully written.


undefeated!