Ilia Topuria confronts life after Justin Gaethje loss: I did not recognize the face staring
Ilia Topuria is finally picking up the pieces of what he left behind on the White House lawn.
Nearly three months after Topuria's shocking upset loss to Justin Gaethje at UFC Freedom 250, the former two-division champion penned a wide-ranging and deeply personal essay reflecting on both the experience and how it has changed him since. Topuria, 29, suffered a fourth-round corner stoppage loss — the first of his professional career — to forfiet the UFC lightweight title in the headlining bout of the June 14 event, which took place in a cage erected on the White House's South Lawn.
In the piece, Topuria (17-1) writes that he remembers waking up the morning after his defeat to Gaethje and not recognizing the battered face that stared back at him. Topuria also revealed that he suffered fractures in both of his orbital bones, a broken septum and a broken foot in the bout, which was a punishing back-and-forth affair.
An excerpt:
For many years, I knew one feeling: winning. I had fought 18 professional fights; 17 nights ended the way I wanted, and one did not. For the first time in my professional career, I had lost. That night I also discovered a side of the sport I had never experienced before: both orbital bones fractured, my septum broken, and my foot broken.
I remember waking up and looking at myself in the mirror. For a few seconds, I did not recognize the face staring back at me. I thought, "This can't be. This can't be me." It was difficult to hold my own gaze, but something happened that may sound strange from the outside: as I looked at myself, I felt more respect for myself. I could even say I loved myself a little more.
I knew something better than anyone: I had given everything. I had arrived prepared, and I felt good physically, mentally, and spiritually. I did not need to search for an excuse. I had tried, and that night it had not worked out. That was all. I discovered that I could live with it, because when you know deep inside that you gave everything, the result hurts, but it does not destroy you.
I did not want to go back, erase that night, or change my story. I believe in God's will. I have always said that if God ever ruins my plans, perhaps it is because those plans could have ruined me. It was very easy to repeat that when everything was going well. Now I had to live it. And I accepted it.
Maybe that, too, was meant to be part of my story. Maybe I needed that experience to discover a version of myself I had not yet met. I had won 17 times and one night went wrong, but one night cannot erase a life.
Topuria's essay published on his website one day after the Spanish-Georgian fighter broke his months-long social media silence with a video post proclaiming, "We are back!!!"
Topuria was the No. 2-ranked pound-for-pound fighter in the sport prior to his setback against Gaethje. Nicknamed "El Matador," he won nine straight bouts to kick off his UFC career, including a trio of knockouts over legends Alexander Volkanovski, Max Holloway and Charles Oliveira to capture the featherweight and lightweight titles.
Much of Topuria's public persona during his rise was that of supreme confidence. He famously changed his Instagram bio to "UFC featherweight champion" prior to his knockout win over Volkanovski, and spoke openly and plainly about how easily he'd handle the slew of future Hall of Famers who hoped to challenge for his titles.
Topuria addressed that confidence in Saturday's essay, vowing that his experience with Gaethje will only embolden the belief he already felt so deeply in his bones.
Then the noise disappeared. There was no fight anymore, no crowd, no opponent. There was me. And the uncomfortable questions began: Who am I after losing? Do I still believe the things I said when I was winning? Did my confidence really depend on a record? Do I love this only when it gives me victories? Do I want to come back?
Something happened that I did not expect: defeat did not extinguish the fire. It made it bigger. I wanted more than ever to train, to return, and to do things right. I had hit the ground, but hitting the ground does not mean you have to stay there. You can also use it to push yourself back up.
I understood that I would feel truly defeated the day I lost my love for what I do, the excitement, or that motivation that had been with me since I was a child. Then I would have a problem. But that had not happened. Exactly the opposite had happened: I still wanted to come back.
I could not even fully explain why. Love? Ego? Money? Competition? I do not know. I am still discovering it. And I like being able to admit that, because some questions do not need an immediate answer.
I know only one thing: I do not want 20 years to pass and then look back and think I should have risked more. I would rather live with the consequences of having tried than with the question of what might have happened if I had had the courage to do it.
For years I had spoken about faith, character, accepting God's will, getting back up and continuing. Now I had the chance to find out whether I truly believed any of it. Because what matters is not what you know, but what you do with what you know. And what I knew helped me.
I looked in the mirror and could respect the man standing in front of me. To me, that is worth more than any perfect record: the outcome defines one night; character defines a lifetime.
A date or opponent for Topuria's UFC return has yet to be determined.