It's been exactly one year since I last stepped out onto the ice to perform. It's been a year since I laced up my skates before a competition, a year since I put on that dress, that team jacket, and did what I love the most. It's bittersweet looking back. I would relive those moments, those memories, in a second, but something about them being in the past makes them even more special.
Figure skating has taught me so much more than how to do jumps and spins on the ice. It showed me more than how to pull my foot above my head or how to do a perfect bun in mere minutes. It taught me things about myself I never thought possible, and lessons that have shaped me into the person I am today.
Thank you for helping me out of my comfort zone.
When I told my mom that I wanted to sign up to do my first solo, I think we were all a little shocked. I've always been shy, so wanting to step out in front of a huge crowd and perform was something I never thought I would do. Skating solos was a feeling like no other, and I still miss that feeling like no other. When I went out to perform my last solo, I thought back to the young girl who decided to go for it, and I thanked her. Who knew signing up on a whim would give me so much confidence, grace, and the knowledge that I can do whatever I put my mind to- on or off the ice.
Thank you for teaching me patience.
I can vividly remember the countless times I was out on the ice, getting frustrated and discouraged over not being able to land that jump or successfully perform team footwork. Those moments were tough, but I came to realize the amount of time I worked on something wasn't a negative thing. Some jumps and spins came easy to me, and others didn't. I learned over time that it is important to enjoy the learning process, not just the aftermath of all the bruises when you finally get it just right.
Thank you for being my go-to.
When I first started skating, I was involved in lots of other clubs and sports. As time went on, each year something would conflict with skating, and I would be forced to choose between the two. It finally came down to just skating, and I think that shows that I ended up right where I was supposed to be. Once I entered high school, my life revolved around skating. People used to question why I wasn't a member of the volleyball team or why I didn't show up to last weeks party, and my answer was always, "I had skating."
Some "friends" eventually got tired of that reasoning and stopped inviting me to things, and as much as that hurt at the time, I'm glad I chose skating over those temporary friendships. The rink, my coaches, and my teammates were always there whether we were at practice or not, and that's more special to me than who would have seen me at those parties.
Thank you for teaching me how to hold myself.
Regardless if I fell during my solos or skated flawlessly, I learned to accept both with dignity and grace. I learned over time that winning was not everything and that what was really important was enjoying yourself and showing the audience a piece of who you are during your performance. Having confidence in yourself without being cocky is something that skating taught me, and that isn't just important during competition season.
Thank you for giving me lifelong friends.
Through Synchro, I met my best friends. I made incredible bonds with every single one of my teammates, and although some may have ended their skating journey early or maybe we just lost touch, every one of them has impacted my life in more ways than they know. Even now, as some of us take on college and watch the team from the sidelines, the bond is something that can never be broken.
Thank you for the memories.
There truly is a bond between figure skaters that I'm not sure anyone else will, or can, ever understand. Who else could possibly understand the Zuca bag craze, the bald look (thanks, buns), using the rink as our personal playground, the practices, the run throughs, the tears, the laughs, the triumphs. Figure skating is a sport unlike any other and I am so blessed to have had it be such a huge part of my life.