“I’ve always been a bit of an outsider,” says world martial arts champion Martina Ptáčková. Today, she helps children who are being bullied
At first glance, Martina Ptáčková completely shatters the notion of what a ‘typical’ female fighter should look like. An eight-time world champion in combat sports, she was the first Czech woman to become world champion in hand-to-hand combat, the first European woman to earn a black belt in the discipline, and she passes on her expertise to NATO soldiers, amongst others. However, the wider public also came to know her in a completely different role – alongside Dominik Vodička on *StarDance*, where she swapped fighting stances for dance steps.
Behind her successes lies a story that began on a much less confident note: as a child, she faced bullying, and it was her desire to learn how to defend herself that led her to martial arts. Today, she therefore devotes her time to children who have experienced bullying and, together with her brother Josef, has written the book *The Bully and Me*.
When you look her up online, you’ll find an impressive list of achievements: eight-time world champion, the first Czech woman to win a title in Hand-to-Hand Combat, a trainer for the armed forces, and a contestant on *StarDance*. But who is Martina Ptáčková when she doesn’t have to prove anything or compete with anyone?
I’d say I’m probably just a completely ordinary girl. Although I’ve perhaps achieved something in sport or in other areas, I don’t really acknowledge it at all and it feels as though I’m still right at the very beginning. I underestimate myself a lot. In fact, sometimes I have to say to myself: ‘But you’ve done well with that.’ I’m very critical of myself and I want everything to be perfect. So I feel completely ordinary, normal, as if I were still at the very beginning of everything. I think that’s my weakness. At the same time, though, perhaps it’s precisely because of this that I don’t feel I’ve already achieved anything and can afford to slack off. I still have the drive to improve, to learn new things and, above all, to prove to myself that I can be better than I was yesterday. At the same time, I’m learning to accept that I don’t have to be perfect at absolutely everything and that it’s OK to be proud of myself sometimes.
What drew you to combat sports in particular? Although more and more women are taking them up these days, they were long regarded primarily as a male discipline.
I’d say it was more a case of combat sports finding me. As a child, I was bullied, so my parents signed me up for training so that I could defend myself better, wouldn’t be afraid to stand up to my classmates, and would know how to react if anyone harassed me.
Gradually, I stuck with combat sports, even though nobody back then expected that I would one day compete at the highest level or achieve any significant success. That only came later, with more intensive training and growing experience. So, at the start, there were no sporting ambitions behind it; it was primarily an effort to cope with the bullying.
Among other things, your classmates teased you about your short hair and the fact that, in their view, you looked like a boy. How much did such comments affect your attitude towards your own appearance at the time?
I think a child experiences such situations differently to an adult. The bullying obviously had a huge impact on me. I felt ugly, I lacked self-confidence and I had almost no friends. At the same time, I gradually lost trust in others, so confiding in anyone was out of the question for me back then.
It was very difficult. Every child wants to belong somewhere, to have friends and to feel accepted by others. That’s precisely why being rejected by my classmates was so painful for me. That’s precisely why being rejected by my classmates was so painful for me. I think, however, that it was precisely this experience that shaped me so much later on. I learnt that you mustn’t let others determine your worth. Today I know that what someone says about us or how they treat us doesn’t necessarily say anything about who we really are. And perhaps that’s why I fight so hard today – not just in sport, but for myself as well. I know what it’s like to feel completely at rock bottom, and I don’t want anyone else to have to go through that.
Did you feel at the time that you didn’t live up to other people’s expectations of what a ‘proper girl’ should look like and how she should behave?
Definitely. I was always seen as a well-behaved girl, but also as a bit of an odd one out. I was well-behaved, I studied hard, got good marks and listened to my teachers. On the other hand, if I didn’t like something, I’d make it clear – even to the teachers themselves. I suppose I’ve never been the sort of person who just nods silently and does everything the way others do. When I felt something wasn’t right, I spoke up, even if that sometimes meant I came across as even more ‘odd’. Nowadays, however, I see it more as one of my strengths. You should be polite and respect others, but at the same time you shouldn’t lose yourself just to fit in.
Do you think there are still ideas in society about what a ‘proper woman’ should look like and what she should be doing?
I think such ideas still exist in society, but I come across them most prominently online. Personally, I don’t think anyone has ever told me directly that, as a woman, I shouldn’t be doing what I do. Rather, I notice certain reactions or looks. Of course, I don’t mind a discussion and I respect that everyone is entitled to a different opinion, but the idea that a woman must look or behave in a certain way doesn’t seem right to me.
I see this, for example, with the girls who train at our club. At school, they sometimes hear that their muscles are too big or their arms are too strong, and that a girl shouldn’t look like that. I don’t come across such comments myself very often, or perhaps I just don’t let them get to me so much anymore.
You can also sense a certain distance when training soldiers or police officers. When, as a woman, you join a group of men, you can tell at first that they’re eyeing you up with a bit of suspicion. You first have to show them that you belong there and that you know your job. Usually, no one will say this to you directly, but you can sense it in the atmosphere. I’m used to it, though; I don’t take it personally and I don’t let it bother me.
Generally speaking, though, I do notice such stereotypes. There are constantly opinions about what a woman should or shouldn’t do, how she should look, behave, or when she should have children. In my view, it’s therefore important to stay true to yourself and, above all, listen to your own inner voice. After all, no one else is in your shoes or has lived through the same story as you.
Have you encountered mistrust or scepticism from men in the world of combat sports simply because you’re a woman?
A certain degree of scepticism is often evident, for example, at the start of military training. To a certain extent, though, I understand it, because at first glance I probably don’t look like someone who practises martial arts and is also capable of teaching them professionally.
When participants don’t know me beforehand, they might think to themselves: ‘What’s this girl doing here?’ I have long hair, I often wear dresses, and so at first glance I might not fit their image of a martial arts coach. People simply often judge by appearances.
But as soon as the training itself begins, any initial doubts usually disappear quickly and we work together brilliantly. I think both sides end up enjoying it. You just mustn’t let yourself be thrown off balance by how others view you at first. Let everyone look at you however they like.
StarDance was also a significant experience for you, where you moved from a combat environment into the world of dance, costumes and graceful movements. Did the competition help you discover a side of yourself that you hadn’t really known before?
Definitely. Of course, I’ve never seen myself solely as a tough fighter who’s only into sport, but I think StarDance brought out even more gentleness and empathy in me.
I’ve always tried to listen to others and have got involved in projects for children, for example. But thanks to my own experience with dancing, I now perhaps have an even greater understanding of people who struggle with something, even though they’re really trying. I’ve been in that situation myself, starting completely from scratch.
It’s nice to do something you’re good at. But in my opinion, those who take on something they’ve never done before – and are afraid of, at that – deserve far greater respect. I’d never danced before and I was very apprehensive about it. At the same time, though, I realised that fear shouldn’t stop us. Even the things we’re afraid of can be mastered bit by bit.
It works in a similar way in combat sports. A new technique or tactic might not come easily to me at first, but if I persevere, train regularly and don’t give up, I’ll gradually improve. Perhaps I’m not the sort of person who finds everything comes naturally first time round. But when I really want something, thanks to my determination and perseverance, I can eventually surpass even more talented people.
That’s the most important lesson I took away from StarDance: you should persevere, pursue your goals and not let yourself be overly influenced by what others say or how they view you.
In combat sports, you’re used to controlling your own body and your opponent’s space. Dancing, on the other hand, requires trust, closeness and a willingness to let yourself be led. Was it harder for you to learn the dance steps, or to let go of control for a moment?
I think that at the start it was definitely hard for me to let myself be led, because I’m always used to relying on myself, wherever I am. Suddenly I had to take into account that I had a partner there.
So at first it was a struggle for both me and my dance partner. Over time, though, we got in sync and after that it didn’t feel strange at all. It really was a struggle at the start, though. I used to do whatever I wanted, and it seemed odd to me that suddenly it was the lad deciding where we’d go, and not me.
Your strength and achievements may be admirable to some people, but perhaps a little intimidating to others. Have you ever found, in your personal life or in relationships, that men have been put off by you because of your profession or your self-confidence?
Yes, that happened to me a lot. Boys were often afraid of me. But now I have to say that I have a partner who, although he doesn’t like combat sports at all and is actually the complete opposite of me, respects it and supports me.
If I were to decide to do anything, I know he’d stand by my side, help me and support me, which I think is important. So he isn’t afraid of me. He doesn’t have to love everything I do, nor does he have to fully understand it, but what’s important to me is that he respects what matters to me. Whatever I decide to do, I know he’ll be right there by my side, helping me and supporting me, which I think is incredibly important in a relationship. So, thankfully, he isn’t afraid of me.
I’d say rather that he knows me for who I really am, and that’s precisely why he knows that behind that ‘fighter’ there’s still a completely normal girl.
Do you feel that women are still expected to be a bit of a contradiction? Are they supposed to be successful, confident and independent, but at the same time have to be careful not to come across as too dominant or ‘not feminine enough’?
Yes, definitely. For example, women are expected to have a career, yet at the same time people question them if they don’t have children. Conversely, if they do have children and devote themselves fully to them, they may face criticism that they aren’t working hard enough. So I think women often find themselves under pressure from conflicting expectations.
But similar demands are also placed on men. They, in turn, are often expected to provide financially for the family and take care of everything, simply because they’re men. I can imagine that such pressure can also be very demanding.
Quite simply, everyone is dealing with something different. Both men and women face their own problems and societal expectations; they just often take different forms. For me, it’s important that everyone can choose their own path. There isn’t just one right way to be a woman or a man, to have a family, to build a career or to pursue what you enjoy. What matters is that it makes sense to you and that, above all, you are happy with yourself.
Although you’re probably better at defending yourself than most people, you’ve spoken yourself about how you sometimes don’t feel safe on your way home. Does knowing self-defence give you greater peace of mind, or rather a keener awareness of all the things that could happen?
I think that the more you know, the more respect you sometimes command. That certainly works that way for me, at least. I realise that all sorts of things can happen and that you simply can’t be prepared for every situation.
When I go out somewhere with friends in the evening, the others tend to be completely relaxed, whilst I’m constantly looking around me. I know that someone might be carrying a gun, or might take you by surprise at a moment when you don’t have a chance to react properly. You can simply find yourself in certain situations so quickly that even experience might not be enough. That’s why, in my opinion, it’s impossible to feel completely safe.
Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you were actually scared?
Definitely. For example, I was once walking home late one evening and came across a group of clearly drunk young men who were making various suggestive remarks to me. As long as it’s just words, it’s still a different situation to when someone actually touches you or tries to attack you. Only then does it become clear whether you’re capable of defending yourself.
I experience similarly unpleasant moments quite often, as I tend to come home late in the evening. Especially in winter, some places are almost deserted. Even if they’re objectively considered safe, you can find yourself in an uncomfortable situation in the blink of an eye.
I’ve experienced this abroad too. In Jordan, for example, I accidentally ended up in a neighbourhood where a group of people started harassing us. I’ve had similar experiences in Georgia and Brussels as well. All it takes is straying from where you were originally heading, and the situation can quickly become complicated. It’s certainly an advantage to be prepared and know how to defend yourself. However, the more you know, the more you realise, in my view, that there’s no such thing as complete safety.
As an experienced martial artist, what advice would you give to women who are walking home alone at night and don’t feel safe? How can they at least partially reduce the risk?
Whether you’re a woman or a man, you shouldn’t underestimate a journey at night and automatically assume you’ll manage it somehow. Even if it’s only a few minutes and the area doesn’t seem dangerous, an unpleasant situation can arise practically anywhere.
If possible, it’s always better to walk with someone. If you do have to walk home alone, you should at least prepare yourself a little. For example, it’s important to wear suitable clothing and footwear that allow you to move quickly or run away. It’s worth thinking ahead about even such seemingly minor details.
I personally carry several self-defence items with me, such as a baton or a tactical pen. However, it is essential to know how to use them properly and to actually have them to hand when needed. It’s not enough to rely on having pepper spray in my handbag if I don’t know how to use it. In a crisis, it can even be dangerous for the person carrying it.
So can a self-defence device actually pose a risk if you don’t know how to use it properly?
Definitely. This applies, for example, to a baton as well. You might feel that it will help you defend yourself, but an attacker could snatch it from you and use it against you. The situation could then end up being even worse than if you hadn’t had any such device at all.
Moreover, you often have only one chance to take the attacker by surprise. They may underestimate you at first, but if your initial reaction fails, they may not give you another chance. That is why it is important to have at least a rough plan in mind and not to rely solely on the feeling that you are carrying something with you.
Many women attend self-defence courses where they learn specific techniques for particular situations, such as how to respond to a certain type of grip. However, a real attack does not usually unfold exactly according to a pre-rehearsed scenario. I therefore consider alertness and the ability to react in any way at all to be more important.
It is least advantageous for an attacker when the victim begins to defend themselves actively. Shouting, making noise, struggling or trying to attract attention can deter them more than passivity. The most important thing, therefore, is not to freeze, but to try to act – even if you’ve never taken a self-defence course.
I’d like to return to the topic of bullying. You and your brother work with children who are facing bullying, and together you’ve written the book *The Bully and Me*. In your view, has bullying changed since the time you experienced it yourself, particularly due to the influence of social media?
Back when I was being bullied, it was mainly physical. My classmates would hit me, kick me, take my things, turn other children against me, or lock me in the toilets, for example.
Today, in my view, cyberbullying is much more prevalent. It has shifted to mobile phones and social media platforms such as Facebook or Instagram. At the same time, however, we have recently observed a resurgence of physical bullying. For example, we’ve come across cases where a group of children lie in wait for someone and then attack them.
Nevertheless, I feel that online bullying still predominates at present. Each form takes a different shape, but in both cases it is important to strengthen the child’s psychological resilience and prepare them for challenging situations. It doesn’t matter whether it’s physical bullying or cyberbullying.
How can one defend oneself against cyberbullying? Do you think stricter regulation of social media, for example, would be a solution?
I do not entirely agree with a blanket ban on social media for children, although I may be in the minority on this. If we ban them from using it, they will probably find another way to access it anyway, for example through their parents’ or friends’ accounts.
I consider it more important for children to learn how to navigate the online environment safely. What’s the point if they aren’t allowed to use social media until they’re fifteen, only to enter this world at sixteen with no experience whatsoever? They may suddenly find themselves in an environment they don’t understand at all.
I would therefore be more in favour of more thorough education, prevention and greater involvement of schools than a complete ban. Forbidden things often appeal to children even more, and in my view, a ban alone will not solve the problem. They need to know how the internet works, what risks it poses and how to respond to them.
So should experts, schools and parents all play a greater role?
Definitely. It is not just children who need greater awareness, but their parents as well. If they have absolutely no idea what their child is doing online, they should take a greater interest in their child’s online life, talk to them and make them aware of the potential risks.
Yet this isn’t just a problem with the internet. Some parents don’t even know where their children spend their free time, who they’re seeing or what they’re doing together. A child might say they’re with friends, but that could mean a whole range of different things.
I would therefore urge parents in particular to communicate with their children and explain things to them. In my view, a total ban won’t achieve much. Children need to learn how to navigate the online world, because the world is, and always will be, dangerous to a certain extent.
In your work with children, do you also come across cases where they become targets of bullying because they do not conform to traditional ideas about how boys and girls should behave? Does this apply, for example, to gay, lesbian or other queer children?
I come across bullying affecting all sorts of children. I think awareness of these issues is much better today than it used to be, and society is gradually moving in the right direction.
However, in my view, bullying doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t really matter whether someone is gay or lesbian, whether they come from a wealthy family, or what their results are at school. If someone wants to make them a target, they’ll always find a reason.
It can happen in nursery, at school or at work. Everyone is vulnerable in some way, and different things work on different people. For example, if I know someone is very attached to their family, I can attack them through that. With another person, I’ll find a different weak spot.
It is therefore important to recognise what is happening in good time and try to prevent it. After all, the more you get away with it, the more you want to do it. When the aggressor sees that their behaviour is having an effect and the victim isn’t defending themselves, they may gradually escalate their attacks.
People often tell themselves that perhaps they’re overreacting or taking everything too personally. However, if they don’t like something and don’t feel comfortable, they should speak up. Someone might label them as oversensitive, but what matters is how they feel. After all, no one else is going to stand up for them.
What, specifically, should a person do if they are being bullied? What advice would you give them based on your own experience?
It’s easy to say, but in practice it’s obviously much harder. Nevertheless, it’s important to try to put a stop to the bullying, to clearly say ‘enough’ and to speak up.
The response doesn’t have to be perfect. You don’t even need to know exactly what to say. The important thing is to react in some way. It’s similar to self-defence. If someone speaks to me in a way that bothers me, I should tell them that I don’t want them to do that.
The other person might just think they’re having a laugh and might not even realise they’re hurting you. But you might experience the situation completely differently. That’s why you need to trust your own feelings, rather than accepting it when others say you’re overreacting. If you don’t feel comfortable, you have the right to speak up.
Did your experience of bullying also affect you as an adult?
Definitely. I think it made me more resilient and assertive. Every bad experience can ultimately teach you something, and in my case, that applies to bullying too.
I’ve learnt to stand up for myself better and fight for the things I believe are right. At the same time, this experience has given me greater empathy and a desire to help others. When I see a child going through something similar, I don’t want them to experience the same thing I did.
I can imagine how they must feel – that nobody is listening to them and that those around them think they’re overreacting, even though they’re actually feeling really awful. That’s precisely why I try to be more sensitive to such situations today.
Perhaps being bullied also gave me the ability not to give up. I’ve always been a bit of an outsider – first at school and later, for example, at training sessions, where I struggled with almost everything at first. But that made me all the more determined to fight on and carry on.
Giving up is very easy. Not giving up, on the other hand, takes courage. And perhaps that is precisely what this experience has given me.
