Chapter Two: Life Beyond the Rink
For anyone that knows me personally, a hefty amount of this content might be redundant so bear with me.
For those of you that don’t, I spent the last half of my life as a competitive figure skater. Specifically, as a synchronized skater, which means I’ve always been a part of a team. Up until a few months ago, I would have told you that skating was my life.
At the peak of my career, I spent anywhere from 30-60+ hours a week training. I never saw myself as naturally talented so I worked a lot harder than everyone else to keep up. For instance, my teammates had this crazy idea that was I was born flexible but little did they know that for years, I showed up to practice an hour earlier and stayed an hour after just to stretch. I generally didn’t leave the rink until around close to midnight but I didn’t want to! I loved it more than anything.
When I was 16, we earned the opportunity to represent Team USA in international competition. We went to Paris, Venice, and Milan all within a two week span and the experience was magical. I still remember the exact moment of when we found out we had captured a bronze medal in Milan - the screams, the hugs, the tears. I still get chills remembering the “USA, USA, USA,” chants and the blaring national anthem.. hand over heart. Home of the brave. I still refer to that day as one of the best in my life.
I continued post high school and was a part of the Michigan State University Synchronized Skating Team for the past three years. It was my first time being on a team where we all went to the same school and could actually hang out outside of the rink! I was afraid I would never find another group who would accept my quirky self like in high school but I found just that and more. My best moments in college so far have been with these girls. My sophomore year we were crowned the national bronze medalists and my junior year I served the duty of captain. It was really during these seasons I truly resonated with the phrase, “these are the moments”.
I was obsessed to say the least. The idea of having to stop always terrified me; I felt that without skating I wouldn’t be me. I would become depressed, purposeless, out of shape, and painfully average. I felt that skating always justified my existence and brought out the best in me.
A former coach once told me that leaving the skating world is like leaving a real first love. It’s heart-breaking, I’ll have moments of regret, I might cry a lot, and it could take a while to re-build and to feel happy and complete again.
It isn’t the same for all former skaters since the reasons for stopping vary (notice how I never say “quit”) but I’ve had moments that have felt parallel to a bad break-up scenario. However, similarly to one, it gets easier. A flaw of mine is that too often, I hold what I do and who I am as one of the same. In other words, what I do and who I am are no different to me. I get too lost in what I do and love; I never differentiate it from the person I am or hope to be. I guess this is where my obscene obsession for everything derives from. I’m not one to say whether this mindset is a “flaw” or not but it definitely amplifies the day-to-day for better or worse. Since I associated my worth with my sport for the last half of my life, the absence of it has left me feeling worthless. With not being in New York or doing anything directly fashion-related either (my next great conquest if it isn’t obvious enough), it has taken a lot of confidence to get up, explore, and choose to be a happy/functional/societal human.
My relationship with New York has aided me in realizing that I have talent and something to offer outside of the rink. But beyond knowing that I hold value, skating curated just that. The successes I know I’ll have in the future will always have skating to thank; I wouldn’t be who I am today without it. I credit any time I fell for teaching me how to get back up and any victory for teaching me how to brush past the hype and keep working toward the next thing. I’m proud of what I accomplished as a skater and I know it won’t be the last experience I’ll be proud of either.
Not only was I training for the next competition or the next season, I was training for the rest of my life.
It’s been six months since I’ve last put on a pair of skates but I’ll probably put them back on for old times sake sometime within the next six. The skating world is a special family that I know I can always come back to and that will always hold a very special and sacred place in my heart. I’m more than grateful for the experiences I had, the people I’ve met, and everything I’ve learned along the way; I had the time of my life. But just because I’m not competing doesn’t mean it isn’t there and just because I’m not “skating” doesn’t mean I’m not a “skater”. While the experience itself was fleeting, what I took from it will last forever and I can’t wait for what’s next. So, here’s to chapter two..
