There’s something about that fight that I just can’t get out of my head. It’s the memory of several moments when I froze up and my opponent’s jabs landed. The fact that the jabs landed was because my guard was up but open—that’s a different issue. What I don’t fully understand, and what angers me the most, is that I froze up. I thought about it all a lot—once again, I overthought everything. I don’t know if it was fear or something like that. The truth is, it’s very similar to moments in social situations where I hear or see something happen and don’t know what to say, so I just don’t respond. It scares me a little that this might be the lack of courage that’s been haunting me for a long time. But “lack of courage” isn’t the most accurate way to describe it. Of course, I’m brave—that’s why I stepped into the ring, why I take on difficult tasks at work, and why I like challenges. But when it’s time to get serious, I freeze up. And I want to emphasize: I understand it’s not a lack of courage per se, but the feeling goes beyond my vocabulary.