I walk into the ice rink and the coolness hits me like a brick, waking me up instantly. The laces of my skates slip through my fingers as I fasten them. My blades push through the ice and I pick up speed. I jump, I spin, I fall. Wind whipping through my hair is the greatest feeling in the world. Empowering. Like I can do anything. On the ice I am a swan. A beautiful creature. Gliding through the water. My head is clear, my mind blank. Just me and my skates. There’s nothing like it. It’s freeing.

This time it’s different. I am here for my annual showcase. I zip up my sequined gold and black dress with shaky hands. The matching gold fedora is added on top of my high ponytail. All of my hard work is about to be put on display for hundreds. Flashing lights. The national anthem. I wait behind the handmade curtain, my whole group huddling together. We’re called. I move into position, grabbing my hat and tipping my head down. The music starts abruptly, ringing through the rink. Hit the road Jack. All eyes are on us but I tune it out. The claps are distant and faint as I go through the steps of the routine. My knees crash against the ice as we go into a slide. Up, up, up to a kick. Down, down, down into a spin. The adrenaline is pumping. I can’t feel the pain in my knees. I can’t feel dizzy. I am on top of the world. My chest rises and falls as the music slowly fades out. The performance is a blur and people are already cheering. Suddenly I am walking off. High-fives are exchanged. A smile is plastered on my face. Complete bliss.

Despite my passion and love for the sport, every week it is hard to motivate myself to go. I started only 5 years ago, which made me 5 years too late, 5 years behind everyone else. The skaters my age are infinitely better. No one pays attention to me, and going makes me feel utterly alone. The butterflies in my stomach explode while I’m on my way. My hands sweat and I get dizzy, just like during a spin. When my friends aren’t there it’s so hard to go in. I am an outsider. I am a crooked tooth in a beautiful smile. The smile of all the skaters who are elegant and graceful.

I doubt myself when I skate. When I do anything I always think its bad, I hate it. And I’m dizzy all over again. Somehow, I can never shake the feeling that I’m not good enough or pretty enough to be a skater. Even when I get approval, even when I do well, I am never good enough for myself.

But I’ll never let this stop me from doing what I love. Although it can be hard, the rink is my second home. I have made unforgettable friends who love me for who I am. Skating makes me want to work harder every day. I am so thankful I found this sport. I would never trade these experiences for the world.