I miss it.

Figure skating was my thing. It made me feel alive. Those perfectly sharp blades, the slicing sound as they carved in the ice. The tight boots and the leathery squeaks they made when I flexed my ankles. The chilly air nipping against my cheeks and blowing back my hair. The spray of ice when I stopped and the power with every stroke I took. Nobody else I knew loved it as much as I did...it was passion. Every single worry that I had would be left behind as I flew...I took off. I soared. I skated poetry in the little movements...the bending, swirling, jumping. Skating was my release. It was the way I could forget about the world. Forget about everything...just skate. Focus.

Surgery. It all ends in just a tiny snap of time. One tick of the second hand on a clock. In words that fit on a single breath.

“You need surgery”

Skating is over.  

The one chance I had to not get surgery--those painful, painful shots. Those shots that were living hell--didn’t work. I held my breath and for a second I actually let myself hope. Maybe it worked.

It didn’t. Skating is over. Pointe is over. Skating is over. 

I need to breath...I need to relax for a moment. Let it sink in. I need to take a break from reality and just pause. The dream I have been chasing for 7 ½ years is gone in a flash. My coach hasn’t said a word to me...my club has moved on...my parents don’t care...everyone has forgotten about me. But I haven’t. I miss the ice, I miss the dedication, I miss the tears and the bruises and kicking the ice from frustration. I miss the whiplash, the burning muscles and the butterflies from competition. The smell of the hair gel and the nerves as the girls before you skate. The hot tears when you get last. The shaky legs. The joy. The instruction from your coach, choreography, passion. I miss everything about it. I miss me.

I keep telling myself I’ll get over it, But will I? I keep telling those around me I’m fine. But am I? We’ll see...maybe, but as of right now, I am struggling every morning to just simply get out of bed and plaster that fake smile on my face. Every time I see the figure skater sticker on my car or the posters on my wall my heart gets a little emptier. Figure skating was my thing. It is what defined me. Now what do I have?

Exactly. Nothing. 

Me as a 'who' in 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas'. I was so proud!

 

The time has come.

I've always been stubborn, ever since I could remember. I set impossibly high goals and I chase after them with everything in me. I never give up. Never have...and I never thought I would. but I have to now. I have to give up on something that has been my life's handhold for the past 7 years. And the worst thing?
I don't have a choice in the matter.
I am a figure skater. Am. Was. Not sure which one to say yet. I have been skating since I was 4, and I have been taking lessons since my 10th birthday. I have chased it for so long, struggling so hard...bruises, pain, passion. I love it. I had to take two years off because I got knee surgery, and I just started skating again about a year ago. My coach was surprised at how well I was coming back, he was shocked I never gave up. I came back stronger than I was before surgery. My coach once said to me "if you had started taking lessons at 4, you would have been an Olympian. Without a doubt." Ever since he said that I made that my goal, unknown to my family. Olympics. God can get me there. Then I can show everyone that you don't have to start skating at such a young age to make it. You can start later. It was a dream. I loved skating.

But now I have to get surgery on my shoulder. They have to take a tendon out of my leg to put it in my shoulder, and it has a 4 month recovery limit. We don't have summer ice...and by the time I'm recovered I will be 18, too old to compete where I live.

Skating is over.

I don't know what to do. I am trying to figure out myself. Lately I have been no smiles and spending hours on pinterest seeing if there are any cool crafts I could do. It is going to be so hard to not get excited when I hear a perfect song for skating. Or to not say "I am a figure skater!" when people ask what I do. I have been crying non-stop, which is funny, cause I hardly ever cry. A few days ago my club posted a picture of the club...and I wasn't in it. I. Wasn't. In. It.

They've let me go.

That hurt a lot...but I guess I need to let skating go. I have never been good at that. Letting things go. People...items....dreams. I hate letting go. Saying goodbye. But I have to. And I don't know how...so I have this blog. I'm going to post whatever I want...it may be depressed, it may be excited, it may be frustrated. If I say something you don't like, deal with it. You don't have to like me. You don't have to like what I say. So suck it up and don't read my blog. It's as easy as that.

Today is day 1. Day 1 of accepting this change. I don't get surgery until the 21st of February...so I am going to be skating as much as I can in the next three weeks...

No more driving to the skating rink. No more everyone knowing my name. No more butterflies with competition. No more me.

My very first skating competition. I am in the middle.