T here’s not a hair out of place on Kayla Harrison’s head, her six golden cornrows still looking untouched as they trace a path over her crown and down to the nape of her neck. There’s not a bruise on her face to attest to the battle she’s just been in, the sweat beading her brow the only indication of the three-round bout.
If there were any questions leading up to this November fight against Aspen Ladd about whether Harrison’s year-long hiatus from the Professional Fighters League would affect her, they were silenced after the first round. The younger fighter’s every attempt to gain control was quickly snuffed out by Harrison’s technical prowess, her powerful limbs locking Ladd into a puzzle she couldn’t solve.
But even as Harrison stands in the centre of the PFL cage, declared winner by unanimous decision to bring her near-pristine pro record to 16-1, a larger question looms about what comes next for the 33-year-old takedown specialist who’s spent more of the past year grappling with her own thoughts than against opponents.
“I started fighting because I wanted to provide a better life for me, for my family, and to be the best in the world,” Harrison exclaims into the microphone during her post-fight interview. “Thanks to PFL, I’m able to provide for my family — they’re never going to want again. I’m blessed for that. But now, it’s time for me to provide for me.”
At the time, no one — not even Harrison herself, she’ll insist months later — knew her words would double as a final farewell to PFL; that 141 days later, she’d be stepping into an octagon under brighter lights, on a larger stage. But that’s what happened. And now, as she prepares to make her long-awaited UFC debut this Saturday against Holly Holm, no one — especially not Harrison, and those who know her best — doubts her ability to make a splash.
To look at Harrison is to see her strength. Her five-foot-seven frame, perpetually tanned by the Florida sun and almost always sporting some kind of spandex, is all muscle — the result of more than two decades of elite training. To read her resume is to understand just how dominant an athlete she’s been for the better part of that 20-year span. But it’s when you hear her speak, that you truly comprehend that Harrison’s greatest source of power isn’t her physical strength but the mental muscles that have powered her over or through every hurdle thrown in her way. Because Harrison is a fighter — in everything she does.
Standing in that cage last November, the post-fight mic still directed toward her, she was asked about her legacy and what was left to achieve.
“Yeah, I mean, I think that my legacy is there,” she answered. “It’s not just about who I fight — it’s what I fight for.”
J immy Pedro believes in destiny. The two-time Olympic bronze medallist and long-time judo coach trusts that there’s a reason he never stood atop the Olympic podium in his sport. “I think I was meant to help someone else achieve it and be a part of something bigger than myself,” he says. “And Kayla was that person that I was destined to help.”
When Pedro thinks back to the teenaged judoka that first set foot in his dojo in 2007, he sees a “totally different person” from the 33-year-old who will step into the octagon on April 13. “She had talent, of course. She was a tough, talented girl,” the coach says of the 16-year-old Harrison, who’d moved from her hometown of Middletown, Ohio, to Wakefield, Mass. to train with him. “But she was a broken individual.”
Earlier that year Harrison had told her mother that her childhood judo coach had been sexually abusing her for years. Her mother reported him to the police, and Daniel Doyle was later sentenced to 10 years in prison after pleading guilty to illicit sexual conduct. Harrison was struggling with PTSD and suicidal thoughts as she tried to process the abuse. Seeking help and a fresh start, she found both in the Boston suburb through the care of therapists and her new coaches, the father-son duo of “Big Jim” and Jimmy Pedro Jr.
At Pedro’s Judo Center, Harrison was surrounded by “a room of competitors who had high expectations and high aspirations,” says Pedro — and soon, she was one of them. “She absorbed everything like a sponge,” says Pedro, who’s long stressed the importance of mental training and confidence, of “using the mind as a tool to help visualize success and then live that success,” as he puts it. “Discipline, respect, confidence — she really absorbed all of that, took it in and internalized it and, kind of, made that who she became.”
On the mat, the success came quickly. Harrison medalled in back-to-back junior world championships in 2008 and 2009, claiming gold and silver, respectively. In 2010, she made the jump to the senior circuit with a golden victory at the world judo championships, becoming the first American judoka to claim gold at the event since Pedro himself won in 1999. Everywhere she went, from IJF Grand Prix competitions to Pan American Championships, she medalled, making her a favourite to make a splash at the London 2012 Olympic Games.
Pedro typically encourages his athletes to set out three goals at the beginning of a year. Leading up to the 2012 Olympics, Harrison had one: to be the first American to win Olympic gold in judo. Together, Pedro and Harrison visualized that victory in London, painting every detail on the canvas. “You have to see it in your mind and live that moment so many times in your brain that it becomes the fabric of who you are. It becomes believable. It becomes achievable. If you’ve seen it enough times, when the moment comes for you to make it happen, your body and your mind says, ‘Oh, I’ve done this before. I’ve seen this before. This is reality. This is not just a dream — this is what I was destined to do.’”
So, Harrison — 22 at the time, and ranked No. 4 in the world — pictured herself becoming Olympic champion. She walked up on that podium in her mind again and again. She heard the national anthem. She put her hand on her heart. She cried. She felt the emotions as if responding to the real achievement. And then she made it happen: three straight wins, including a semi-final victory over world No. 1 Mayra Aguiar of Brazil, powered her to the final, where she toppled Britain’s Gemma Gibbons in a match that went down to the wire. She’d made history, but Harrison wasn’t finished. Four years later, she defended her Olympic title with a second-straight gold at Rio 2016, placing herself once again atop the women’s judo world.
The four-year cycle between those golds had “probably been the hardest four years of my life,” Harrison said in a press conference after that 2016 victory, her medal on the table beside her. “I’ve done more tournaments than you even want to hear about in places that I can’t even pronounce. I’ve fought when I’m sick, I’ve fought when I’m injured, I’ve fought when I’m tired — and it was all to prepare me for this day. And a lot of times, I questioned it. But now I don’t question it anymore.”
In finding her footing as a top judoka, Harrison had also found her voice. She’d gone public with her story of sexual abuse around the time of the London Games, opening herself up to the rest of the world. She launched her Fearless Foundation in 2013, a non-profit focused on providing educational tools to identify signs of child sexual abuse and empowering survivors to come forward and seek help. And all the while, she kept on training, the Pedros pushing her as far as she could go — and then further, still, so that no one could possibly question her status as the best.
The Pedros, she says, didn’t just change her life. They saved it. And they inspired her to keep fighting. “I want to be, for people, what the Pedros were for me — which was, just hope,” she says.
“They gave me hope again. They believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”
I t was the presence of UFC great and two-division champ Amanda Nunes that first drew Harrison to train at American Top Team when she made the jump from judo to MMA following Rio 2016. Her tour of the facility included a sparring session with the GOAT of women’s MMA, and one month later she’d packed up her life and moved to Florida to train with the best. Nunes’ retirement last June, following her victory at UFC 289, left a power vacuum, and a vacated title, atop the promotion’s women’s bantamweight division. MMA coach Mike Brown, who’s worked with Harrison at ATT since she made the move, believes Harrison can fill both.
Brown was well-versed in Harrison’s judo accolades when she first arrived at his training facility in Coconut Creek, Fla. and there was no questioning the two-time Olympic champ’s “giant potential” for success in MMA. “But you never know how people will react when they get punched in the face,” he says. “Fight or flight — some people turn to flight, sometimes it’s fight, you know? But she was a fighter, 100 per cent.”
It didn’t take long for Harrison to prove exactly that. She signed with the World Series of Fighting (later relaunched as the Professional Fighters League following an ownership change) in 2016, began training at ATT in 2017, and made her PFL debut in June 2018 — a dominant submission victory via textbook armbar over the more experienced Brittney Elkin just 3:18 into the bout. She defeated her next opponent, Jozette Cotton, two months later by TKO and, in case there was any lingering doubt about the power of the former judoka, she doubled down and delivered another swift TKO victory against Moriel Charneski at PFL 11 on the last day of 2018 to ring in the new year with a 3-0 record. Exactly one year later, Harrison was crowned PFL lightweight champ with another New Year’s Eve win, this one by unanimous decision over Larissa Pacheco.
It took 16 total fights — including a title defence via second-round submission against Taylor Guardado — for an opponent to finally best her. Pacheco, in her third attempt, finally scored a win by unanimous decision in a five-round 2022 title bout that ended Harrison’s four-year win streak and three-year reign atop the division. It also marked the beginning of a year away from competition for Harrison.
As she established herself atop the PFL circuit, Harrison had also been facing immense challenges outside of it. In 2019, just one month before her first PFL title fight, she stepped in to help care for her young niece and nephew as her mother — who had custody of the children — recovered from a stroke. In October 2021, after two years of serving as the kids’ legal guardian, Harrison officially became Mom to Kyla, now 11, and Emery, five. The trio lovingly call themselves ‘The Wolfpack.’
“Becoming a mom has been the best thing to ever happen to me,” says Harrison. “They put everything in perspective for me, you know? Like, yes, I’m a fighter and yes, I want to be a UFC champion and I have all these goals, but really, at the end of the day when I go home, my kids don’t care how practice went. They don’t care if I have a belt or no belt. They just want to see their mom. And that kind of keeps me grounded, keeps me humble, and puts life into perspective.”
Her new reality also prompted her to assess other parts of her life and act on goals she’d only allowed herself to dream about. Harrison, who grew up on a horse farm, had long envisioned buying land of her own, though that felt more like a retirement plan than a viable reality for a busy pro athlete. “But when I got the kids, I was like, ‘Why the hell would I wait? I want to buy the house that they’re going to grow up in.’”
So, together, the Harrisons created their dream home, with plenty of space to roam. Good thing, too, because the Wolfpack keeps growing: Safe Haven Farms, as they decided to call the property, is currently home to a pair of emus, three dogs, two cats, two parakeets, two rabbits, two quails, and about 30 chickens. “All of the animals that we have are animals that people couldn’t take care of or didn’t want anymore, they’re all rescues,” says Harrison.
Glimpses of the tall, dark emus, named Emma May and Marshall Mathers, strutting across the lawn are visible in the background of her Instagram stories. “They’re like our little pet dinosaurs,” Harrison says with a laugh. “They’re all around the property, free-range.”
The emus may have intimidating stares, but it’s Dobby, the chihuahua mix, visitors really have to watch out for — “he’s actually the meanest of the crew,” she insists.
Harrison and the kids are in the process of building and decorating a stand to sell fresh eggs. In the meantime, she’s made a habit of bringing in dozens for her coaches every week. “My only rule is, they have to bring the egg carton back and I’ll refill it for them,” she says.
Everyone on the farm understands what it’s like to be rescued, and Harrison’s year outside the PFL cage meant more time to spend in her safe haven. The break from competition in the wake of her title loss to Pacheco in November 2022, was both “extremely frustrating” and “really, really, really good for me.”
It was, she understands now, “probably the best thing I could’ve done.” Training time was dedicated to honing her skills without the pressure of an upcoming fight, and to becoming a better sparring partner for teammates. And at home, she could dial in on her kids and work to better understand herself away from the mat.
“I spent a lot of time with my kids and spent a lot of time figuring out what the hell I like to do besides fight, and just got to know myself a little bit, I guess you could say,” she explains. “I had a very healing year. I’ve just grown so much and I’m in such a great place mentally, physically, spiritually.”
Kyla loves practicing judo with her mom and was persistent in her requests for lessons. So, Harrison started up a small class for her daughter and some of her friends after school on Fridays at ATT, once the pros are done for the day. Then Emery joined in, and they invited some of his school pals, too. Before she knew it, Harrison had a class of 50 kids coming for Friday sessions — enough for two classes and ATT’s own impromptu junior program. “We just have fun with it,” she says, noting that she relishes the opportunity to watch the kids’ confidence flourish.
“I’ve had kids who are afraid to step on the mat and won’t look me in the eye, and four weeks later their hand goes up first and they’re like, ‘Yes, sensei! No, sensei!’” she explains. “To watch a child bloom in that way and to see the confidence that learning how to protect yourself gives them is super special.”
By the time Harrison made her return to the cage last November, exactly 364 days after she’d lost to Pacheco, she was refreshed — and, as she came to understand soon after, ready for the next opportunity that came calling.
W hile there’s no title up for grabs Saturday night, Harrison’s fight at UFC 300 offers fans a crucial first glimpse of one of the most-hyped female arrivals in recent memory. There’s plenty of speculation that a win over Holm in her debut could put Harrison on the fast-track to a title fight within the year. But taking the Vegas bout is a major gamble.
PFL’s offer to renew her contract was lucrative, but the pull of the bigger stage and brighter lights proved stronger. “Kayla is somebody who wants to be known as the best of the best, right? She won an Olympic gold medal, and she didn’t just do it once — she did it twice. She’s a pioneer, she broke through. She did what no other American had ever done,” says Pedro, who hasn’t coached her since she made the jump to MMA but remains a mentor. “In the sport of MMA, if you want to say you are the best fighter of all time, you have to win a UFC title.”
Harrison’s greatest strengths in the cage, thanks to her judo background, are in her takedowns and grappling. Her technique has become “almost instinctive,” explains Brown. “The reaction time is cut into fractions of a second. “She’s just on a different level than the other athletes when it comes to these positions.”
The challenge in matching up against Holm, however, will be whether Harrison can get close enough to use them.
While Harrison is known for her ground game, Holm forged her reputation as one of this generation’s best female boxers, before making the jump to mixed martial arts in 2011 and swiftly climbing the ranks. Eight of her 15 career MMA wins have come via knockout or technical knockout, her success fueled early and often by her powerful jab and lethal kick. Holm reached the height of her MMA career late in 2015 in her third UFC appearance when she landed then-champ Ronda Rousey in the hospital after a knockout victory to win the UFC bantamweight title. The 42-year-old veteran has posted a 5-6 record with one no-contest in the UFC since claiming that belt and shaking the MMA world, but there’s no question she remains a dangerous striker.
“Holly was the world champion in the sport of boxing before she ever joined MMA. Kayla was the world champion in the sport of judo before she ever started MMA. They’re both experienced mixed martial art fighters that can do it all — you have to do it all,” says Brown. “Kayla has to be able to strike with Holly and Holly has to be able to grapple with Kayla. It’s going to boil down to who’s the best mixed martial arts fighter. … And I believe that to be Kayla.”
The fight brings a major test for Harrison, and a crucial stepping stone in her search for a UFC title shot. But Friday’s weigh-in also presents a significant challenge. Both of Harrison’s Olympic gold medals came in the 172-pound weight class. Both of her PFL titles came at lightweight, which caps at 155 pounds — five to 10 pounds lighter than her natural walk-around weight. Last year, PFL shifted its women’s weight class from lightweight to a 145-pound featherweight division, leaving Harrison — who’d fought just once as a featherweight, a TKO win over Courtney King at Invicta FC 43 in 2020 — in competition limbo for most of the year. She was gearing up for a second last November against Julia Budd, but instead fought a catchweight bout at 150 pounds against Ladd after Budd backed out.
After Nunes’ retirement, UFC folded its own featherweight class, citing too shallow a pool of talent at the weight. That means its heaviest women’s division, bantamweight, caps at 135 pounds — a weight Harrison agreed to upon signing with the promotion, but one that poses a unique, and potentially perilous, challenge.
Pedro says he and Harrison talked at length about the cut required — the trials that came with getting down to 145 and whether a further cut could be done safely. “[There is] really little fat on her body. She’s not an out-of-shape, not-training 160, 165 — she is a twice-a-day training, fit, 160, 165, with a lot of muscle on her body,” says Pedro. “She has more muscle on her body than 135 pounds. So, her body is going to have to eat itself to make that weight class. She’s going to do it because she’s a professional and she has professional people helping her, but I am telling you it is going to be a difficult weight cut for Kayla and you will see a significant difference in her body structure, just because she’s had to lose muscle to get there.”
The cut is crucial, as is how much Harrison’s body can recover during the 36 hours between the weigh-in and the moment she steps onto the mat. Once a fighter makes weight, it’s a race to gain it back — safely rehydrating and refuelling to maximize energy and power. “How her body adjusts to that weight cut is going to be the determining factor,” says Pedro, who also points to the speed of her opponents in the lighter class being faster than she’s faced before.
Pedro estimates that by the time Harrison steps into the octagon, she’ll likely be around 150 pounds — “she’s going to be a big 135,” he says.
“As long as her body can perform, she’s going to be big, powerful and explosive. And I don’t think they’ve ever felt that strength before at that weight class — I can guarantee you that,” Pedro explains. “The flipside of that is, [if] her body doesn’t take the weight cut very well and she ends up fighting herself out there and she’s been really affected by the weight cut. That’s the only sort of fear factor of this fight is, ‘How will her body respond?’ Her mind will be there, her training will still be there, but your body has to be able to function. … It can’t have been hurt so severely by the weight cut that you don’t recover. That’s my only fear.”
E verything is at risk when you’re in the octagon. “Your paycheck, your ego, and your health, it’s all on the line every time you step out there,” says Brown. He knows Harrison is ready.
“Kayla is the best female fighter on the planet,” he says.
Harrison may enter the bout with a scowl and an icy blue stare, but when she takes on Holm Saturday night, she’ll be fighting with gratitude in her heart. “I truly believe it’s my passion and my purpose — it’s what brings me joy,” she says.
She doesn’t take the opportunity lightly, doesn’t underestimate the power of her platform. “I try and really be careful about what I say and only say it if I mean it and just carry myself in a certain way,” she says. “And yeah,” she adds with a laugh, “I talk a little shit — but that’s ’cause I believe it. And I also believe in the power of using this platform to do good.”
She’s grateful for the coaches and mentors and family members who have helped lift her from her lowest point to her greatest accomplishments on and off the mat. She’s whole-heartedly embraced the opportunity to do the same for others, to be a role model not just for her own children, but for everyone and anyone who feels like they don’t have a voice.
Kayla Harrison is fighting for all of them — and she’s fighting to win.