Lea has challeneged us today to write about rejection and how we deal with it, how we grow from it, what we learn.
Okay.
Tall order. Very scary. Almost like picking at a healed wound. But into the fray I go.
I was a competitive figure skater from the age of 10 to 18. I trained during the summers in Denver at the arena where Carlo Fassi was holding court. He was not my coach. He WAS the coach of Peggy Fleming, and was training Dorothy Hamill, Scott Hamilton (nicest guy in the skating world), Paul Wiley (snot nosed brat at 10) when I was training there.
I give you that background, because it really sets the stage for how intensely competitive and ripe with backstabbing that sport was and is, I imagine, still today.
So let's throw little ole me at 12 into that fray and see what happens shall we?
Rejection happened on a daily basis.
REJECTION because I was not a year round skater at that rink. REJECTION because my coach wasn't "The Man". REJECTION because I was tall for a skater and really skinny and I could eat whatever I wanted and the other girls HATED that.
This was just the daily rejection.
Then there was the stress of taking proficiency tests and all the work and money that went into it and what happened if I failed. My parents, to their everlasting credit, never, NOT ONCE, played the "stage parent" role. When I failed and I most certainly did fail, they waited for me in the warming room, with a hug, an Almond Joy candy bar and my pick for dinner.
Moving on to competition. The PENULTIMATE opportunity for rejection. Cause when you failed, you failed SPECTACULARILY with an audience and 10 judges and all your peers WATCHING your failure.
So at this point you are asking yourself, why would ANYONE want to endure that kind of pressure.
Because, I loved skating. Simple as that.
I loved the feeling of the ice flowing under my blades, the wind whistling around me as I gained momentum for a jump, the lift off, soaring above the boards. I felt like a bird taking flight.
It was magical and artistic and it made me feel beautiful and graceful and strong and FREE!
So I learned in the end................. to skate for me and me alone.
My happiness didn't come from trophies at competition or medals from tests, although I did earn some along the way.
I put aside the rejection, laced up my skates and FLEW!
4 comments:
Your writing gives me goosebumps...everyday! I could "almost" feel the ice and the flying. Youve had quite an eventful life and I am loving reading about it.
fantastic story, Lisa. That really captures a moment in your lifetime beautifully.
I was friends in junior high with a competitive ice dancer. (She and her brother placed second in the World Juniors in 1984) The stories she'd tell about the jealousy and cattiness that went on in the locker room! Oy. Including a singles skater trying to sabotage her skates - even though they didn't compete against each other. Crazy! So when Tanya v. Nancy happened I wasn't surprised. I got to meet Scott Hamilton at Ice Chips with Cissy and he *was* super nice. Of course my favorite skater then was David Santee who skated to Rocky! LOL
I love reading your blog! Rock on sista scrappa! I had to start a blog just to post a comment on your site. So now I'm a blogga too! LOL
Christi
You so rock! I love reading about your life, you are so interesting. I want you to know I admire you, a great big whole bunch!
Lisa...great entry...I was right there with you--ice under my blades, the cold in my throat as you skate around the perimeter of the rink! I was a skater too, but had to quit when we moved to the farm...I was only 8, but had competed and felt that rejection! TFS!!
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