Group of women smiling and confident after a self defence for women training session with SAFE International

What 30 Years of Listening Taught Me About Teaching Women Self-Defence

Foundations| Instructor Tips

May 19, 2026•5 min read

She Didn't Say It in Front of Me

Neither of them said it in front of me.

But once they felt comfortable, they told me.

One had booked me. The other came with her own questions -- including one she'd asked before I even arrived.

"Do you actually know this guy? He's coming to your home."

That's a fair question.

I'm glad she asked it.

We spent most of the session talking. I listened to both of them. Asked questions. Tried to understand each of their situations -- their risks, their concerns, their histories.

They'd both faced violence in relationships. But their stories were different. Their situations were different. What each of them needed from that afternoon was different.

By the end, she said something I've heard before but never get tired of hearing.

"This needs to be taught in shelters."

Two women. Two different stories. Same words at the end.

That afternoon reminded me of something I've believed for a long time.

My clients didn't learn from me. I learned from them.

The Curriculum Didn't Come From a Textbook

I've been doing this since 1994.

In the early days, I had a curriculum. A set program. A list of techniques I taught in order.

Then real people started showing up.

And real people don't fit a set program.

Over time, I watched what stuck and what didn't. I watched what people could recall when pressure was added -- even mild pressure -- and what fell apart the moment things got real.

That feedback changed everything I teach.

Not because I decided to change it. Because the students showed me what needed to change.

The Elbow Strike That Looked Great on Pads

For years, I taught a front elbow strike.

Students loved it. Hitting the pads, it felt powerful. It looked good. Everyone felt confident doing the drill.

Then we added resistance.

And almost nobody used it.

When things got even slightly unpredictable, the elbow strike disappeared from their memory.

That told me everything.

A skill that only works in a controlled drill isn't a skill they are ready for with the limited teaching time.

I cut it from the beginner curriculum.

Not because it's a bad strike, it's a great one. But for someone in a four or five-hour course, it wasn't practical.

Under stress, you fall to what you can remember. Not what looked good on the pads.

The Wrist Grab Experience That Changed My Whole Approach

This one I remember clearly.

I grabbed a student's wrist during a training simulation. A standard drill.

She froze.

I stopped immediately and asked if she was okay.

I recall her saying, "I can't remember which way to spin". Not because she wasn't paying attention. Because I had taught them different reactions to the various wrist grabs.

I decided on the spot.

"Forget the release. Just smash me in the face."

She laughed. Then she did it. And she remembered it.

That moment scrapped years of curriculum.

I used to teach a different defence for every type of wrist grab. One hand, two hands, two hands on one, etc. Each one had its own response.

The problem? Students were spending mental energy identifying the type of grab instead of reacting to what mattered.

What matters is the intention behind the grab. Not the grip itself.

A wrist grab can mean many different things. Someone controlling you before a violent attack is very different from a friend pulling you away from a situation. But the response starts with understanding what's actually happening.

When I simplified their defence to a few basic responses built around intention, they remembered.

The curriculum got shorter. The results got better.

On the Question of a Man Teaching Women

People ask about this. Sometimes directly. Sometimes not.

I can't fully understand what a woman has lived through. I won't pretend otherwise.

But women have been my primary clients for over 30 years. I've heard thousands and thousands of their stories. That means I can empathize, listen without projecting, and sit with what someone shares without judging it.

I never tell someone what they should have done.

Gender matters less than you think. What matters more is whether the instructor understands domestic violence, treats every client as an individual, and can create an environment where someone feels safe enough to be honest.

Ideally, I'd love to see male and female instructors teaching together. But it's not a requirement if the environment is built correctly.

Survivors are not a category. Each person comes in with a different history, different risks, different strengths, and different gaps. What works is showing up prepared to listen, adapt, and teach what that specific person needs.

The two women I worked with recently felt that within the first few minutes.

And they told me.

What This Means for Instructors

If you teach self-defence for women, this is worth sitting with.

Your curriculum is a starting point, not a contract.

The students in front of you will tell you what they need. Not always with words. Often, through what they remember, their fears and experiences.

Pay attention to that. Let it change what you teach.

The instructors who do this well aren't necessarily the most technically skilled. They're the ones who know how to read a room. How to slow down when a student goes quiet. How to scrap a plan mid-session because something more important just showed up.

That's not a soft skill. That's the skill. And it's the foundation of effective violence prevention training.

And it's something you can learn. It's something you can build into how you teach, not just what you teach.