When I'm done fighting, I want to look to get some sort of driving career somewhere. My goal is to eventually get into the Mint 400 and do the trophy truck stuff.
I didn't grow up with a lot of money, so my mom didn't have random money to buy me a car, and I didn't have money to have a car unless I worked, so I didn't get a car until I got my first job at 18.
For a long time, I felt like my identity was to fight. My identity was to be a world champion. That almost defined me.
I fight to drive my percentages through the roof for winning and lower my percentage by taking the least amount of damage and least amount of hits.
What good is power if there's no connection point? My entire style's built around that actual basis.
Everybody's got a puncher's chance in this game. I mean every single person on Earth. But my whole focus, my whole style, my whole dynamic is built around taking that power away from you. So where is the logic in why you're different from anybody else? There is no logic in it.
There's more to the sport than just fighting, and you either understand that, or you don't. And if you don't, then I promise you the guys that are worth money don't want to fight you, because you don't get it.
You have two choices: You can take what you're given or build with what you've got. I choose to build with what I've got and try to make the best of it because I've still been given a stage. I've still got cameras in front of my face when I want them, and I plan to run with it.
My goal is to become the best person I can, and in the process of doing so, I believe, I can help others. I'm also trying to make history in mixed martial arts and become known as the best 135-pound fighter to ever compete.
At a certain point, when I let go and was done - when I stopped and could say I was blessed and thankful to be a champion, when I finally enjoyed life from this different perspective - that's when I healed. Letting go healed me.
I don't need fighting. It's the cherry on top to this beautiful life I've been given.
If you want to be that world champion, you have to be willing to beat anybody on this planet - no strings attached.
At five years old, I became the man of the house. When he left, my dad let me know that. It put a certain drive in me that I can't explain.
