Gabby Viola  has traveled internationally representing Team USA in elite martial arts competition across Portugal, Hungary, Ireland, Wales, England, France, United Kingdom, and Canada. From standing atop the podium at the ICO World Championships in Swansea, Wales, to competing in world-class kickboxing events throughout Europe and North America, she has proudly carried the American flag on the international stage.

Gabby Viola — Athlete & Community Ambassador

In competition, Gabby Viola is known for her composure, precision, and relentless work ethic. A multiple-time world champion, she represents Team USA on the international stage and competes at the highest levels of kickboxing and karate. Her performances across Europe and beyond have established her as one of the most accomplished young fighters of her generation—technically sound, mentally tough, and unshakable under pressure. She doesn’t just win; she sets the standard for preparation, discipline, and consistency.

Outside the ring, Gabby’s fight takes on even greater meaning. Living with inflammatory bowel disease, she has become a visible and powerful advocate for young athletes facing medical challenges—proving that elite performance and chronic illness are not mutually exclusive. Through her advocacy with the Crohn’s & Colitis Foundation, she uses her platform to raise awareness, inspire resilience, and give hope to families navigating similar journeys.

Living with IBD has changed me, but it hasn’t weakened me. If anything, it has sharpened my perspective. I don’t take my health for granted. I don’t take opportunities lightly. I fight with gratitude because I understand what it means to have something try to take your momentum away.

On the mat I’ve won world and national titles with WAKO, NASKA, and WKC representing TEAM USA on a global scale.  One of the most consistent Jr. Black Belt competitors in the world.

I grew up in a dojo, surrounded by tradition, discipline, and a family legacy in martial arts. My grandfather, Bill Viola Sr., is the co-creator of MMA in America before the UFC, and my father, Bill Viola Jr., carried that vision forward. All five of my aunts are black belts.  Karate has always been part of my identity. From the time I was little, I learned that stepping onto the mat meant more than competing — it meant representing something bigger than myself.

But some of my hardest fights never happened in a ring.

When I was diagnosed with IBD, everything changed. Inflammatory Bowel Disease became an opponent I couldn’t see, predict, or outmaneuver with a game plan. There were days I trained through exhaustion that no one else could feel. Days when pain made even the simplest warm-up feel like a championship round. There were moments of frustration, uncertainty, and fear — wondering if my body would allow me to continue chasing the goals I had worked my entire life for.

IBD tested my mental strength in ways competition never had. It forced me to slow down and listen to my body. It forced me to adjust, to recover smarter, to fuel differently, and to accept that some days would look different than others. It taught me humility. It taught me patience. And most importantly, it taught me resilience.

Karate gave me the mindset to face it.   When flare-ups came, I didn’t panic. I adapted. When doubt crept in, I remembered that true strength isn’t about feeling perfect; it’s about showing up anyway. Every time I stepped onto the mat representing Team USA, I carried more than my family’s legacy — I carried proof that chronic illness does not define your ceiling.

Competing internationally while managing IBD has given my journey a deeper purpose. Winning medals matters, but overcoming internal battles matters more. Some victories aren’t visible to the crowd. Sometimes the real win is finishing a training camp strong. Sometimes it is successfully dieting and having to cut weight after an infusion. Sometimes it’s simply standing in the center of the ring knowing everything you pushed through to get there.

As a female fighter, I’m inspired by female fighters like my Aunt Ali. She was a world champion, and all the boys were afraid of her 😉    I’ve learned how to be strong. I’ve learned how to push through pain, train with intensity, and compete under pressure. But strength doesn’t mean doing everything alone.

Even though I come from a strong martial arts family and incredible support system, there’s something different about standing alongside women who understand the unique challenges we face in sport and in life. Combat sports can still be male-dominated environments. Sometimes you have to fight for respect before you even fight your opponent. Having a network of women at tournaments who lift each other up instead of competing for space would reinforce that I belong exactly where I am.

I use my platform as a voice. Living with IBD while competing at a high level has shaped my journey in ways most people don’t see. A female empowerment organization would allow me to speak openly about health challenges, resilience, and confidence without feeling like I need to appear invincible. Strength isn’t pretending everything is easy — it’s being honest about what you’ve overcome. Sharing that story could help younger girls who are silently battling their own struggles.

Mentorship would be another powerful layer. As much as I work to inspire the next generation, I still grow from women who have walked the path before me — athletes, leaders, entrepreneurs, mothers, professionals. Learning how they balance career, health, expectations, and pressure would help me evolve beyond just being a competitor. It would help me build longevity in my sport and in life.

If I’m going to carry forward a legacy, I want it to be one that creates more space for women in martial arts, in leadership, and in life. And standing with other empowered women would only make that mission stronger.