One of my life long dreams has been to go ice-skating. And to wear gloves. Pretty weird, but that’s me. Pretty and weird. He he. Bad joke, sorry. Anyways, both my dreams came true last Saturday. Armed with socks, gloves (yay!!), skates and a whole lot of courage, I stepped onto the rink. And found out….
Damn, this isn’t as easy as it looks!!
To be fair, no one had told me it was gonna be easy. But when you see 3 and 4 year olds zooming around as if they own the place, you tend to think so.
My airy confidence came crashing down around me the moment I took my first few steps on the ice. Steps. I wasn’t skating, I was walking. Walking on ice. Sounds quite God-like…you know, like the ‘walking on water’ thing, but in reality, it looks (and feels) quite goofy.
Truth is, I’ve never skated before. Never. Not even on roller-blades. Because I’m scared. Scared of rolling on wheels at God-knows-what speeds. Scared that I’ll go crashing into some innocent bystander. Scared that I’ll fall and break my bones. The latter more than anything else. And so I’ve never done it.
But thankfully, when I did do it this Saturday, sans wheels, I didn’t do any of the aforementioned. Not that it mattered. I was scared out of my wits anyway. It didn’t help that I had to endure the humiliation of seeing little kids going about as if they were born to do this. Little kids, I tell you!! Doing little flips and flops and what-nots, when I was struggling just to stay upright!! It isn’t fair…not fair, at all.
But in the end, I did it. That’s all that matters. Not the fear, not the humiliation, not anything. I overcame my fears and prejudices, and just did it. For once, I didn’t listen to the scared, shy me. Instead I went with the bold, brave me. For once, I enjoyed myself. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s all that counts.
Thanks to everyone who made it possible.