When I was 12, I was living in Iowa, and I emailed so many

The words of Sasha Banks, “When I was 12, I was living in Iowa, and I emailed so many wrestling schools, and one of them was actually in Boston. I joined it at 18 — the New England Pro Wrestling Academy. They were doing a fantasy camp. I was 17 about to turn 18. I told my mom, ‘I’m 18 now. I just signed these papers by myself, and I’m going to do this,’” shine with the fire of destiny and determination. Within them echoes the eternal story of those who dream before the world believes in them. Banks’ journey is not merely about wrestling; it is about the sacred act of choosing oneself. It is about the courage to follow one’s calling even when permission is withheld, and the will to walk alone when guidance falters. Her words remind us that greatness begins not with opportunity, but with defiance born of faith.

From ancient times, heroes have spoken in the language of conviction that defies circumstance. The tale of Sasha Banks — a young girl in Iowa dreaming of wrestling rings and championship glory — mirrors the timeless myths of those who refused to accept the boundaries of their birth. She was twelve, still a child, yet already sending her ambitions out into the vast unknown, emailing schools in distant lands. This is how all journeys of greatness begin — not with resources, but with desire so fierce it pierces distance. Her story carries the spirit of the young Alexander gazing eastward toward Persia, or Joan of Arc hearing a voice that others could not. The fire of calling always begins in solitude.

The act of telling her mother, “I’m 18 now, I just signed these papers by myself,” is more than teenage rebellion — it is the first declaration of independence of purpose. It is the moment when the child steps across the threshold of fear and begins to become her own guardian. This moment, though simple, holds profound symbolic weight: it is when the dreamer decides that no one else will write her story. Every person who has ever built a life of meaning has stood at that same precipice — torn between safety and selfhood, between obedience and authenticity — and has chosen, like Sasha, to say, “I will go.”

In the ancient epics, such moments are the rites of passage that forge identity. When Theseus sailed to Crete to face the Minotaur, when Mulan took her father’s armor and left under moonlight, when the Buddha walked out from his father’s palace — all were driven by the same quiet fire that burned in a young girl from Iowa. The outer act — signing a paper, stepping onto a ship, leaving home — is small, but the inner act is vast: it is the claiming of destiny. Sasha’s decision to join that academy in Boston was not merely a step toward wrestling; it was the moment she became unstoppable.

It is important to see that her journey was not easy, nor blessed with instant reward. Between that dream-filled email at twelve and her enrollment at eighteen were six long years of waiting, hoping, and holding the dream alive. This endurance — the ability to keep the fire burning when nothing moves — is what separates wish from will. The ancients would call it arete — excellence of spirit, the strength to stay true to the ideal even when the world remains silent. The modern heart may call it persistence, but the truth is deeper: it is faith in one’s purpose when no one else can yet see its shape.

There is also a gentleness hidden in her defiance. She did not curse her mother or the world; she simply stepped forward. This is the way of true warriors — quiet resolve, not rage. Her mother’s doubt was not the enemy; it was the test. The wise understand that every hero must first leave the shelter of love to discover who they truly are. In that moment, Sasha’s courage was not against her mother, but for herself. Such courage is the mark of all who create: they must, at some point, act without permission, guided only by the inner voice that whispers, “Now is the time.”

The lesson of Sasha Banks’ story is clear and eternal: no one can grant you your dream — you must claim it with your own hands. The world will not open the door until you push against it. If you wait for perfect timing, for others’ approval, or for certainty, you will die waiting. Take the step, even trembling; sign the paper, even uncertain. For it is in the act of beginning that fate begins to move with you.

So, to those who stand at the edge of their own calling, remember Sasha’s words. Be bold enough to act before the world calls you ready. Be patient enough to wait, but brave enough to leap when the moment comes. Let your faith in your purpose be louder than your fear of failure. For when you sign your own destiny — as she did — you do not merely chase a dream; you become the proof that dreams, when pursued with unyielding will, can shape reality itself.