Day Two of the Ice Skating Chronicles: The Fall That Taught Me to Rise
Going into day two of skating class, I had one big goal: let go of the wall.
Just once. Just a few steps away from the safety net I’ve clung to since day one.
It’s wild how something so simple—like moving a few feet without holding on—can feel so huge when fear gets involved. That wall? Still my best friend. But hey, I’m feeling hopeful.
It was a little easier than the first day. My heart wasn’t racing as much. I was a little less scared and a little more. I even trusted myself a tiny bit more.
Because along with hope came frustration. shouting “You’ve got this!” but your body is like, “Uhhh…nope.”
And then it happened.
I fell.
Hard.
I fell in the most epic, embarrassing, dramatic way—right in front of every single coach on the ice.
Now, these aren’t strangers. These are coaches who know me. Coaches who’ve seen me watching my daughter skate for years. And now they’ve seen me fall flat on my butt, in front of everyone.
One second I was gliding beside my coach, thinking, “Wow, maybe I can do this!”
The next, BAM—I was on the ice. Cold. Stunned. Convinced I had just made the biggest mistake trying to do this at all.
What was I thinking? I’m too old for this. Too scared. Too clumsy.
And yet…
I didn’t cry. I didn’t panic. I didn’t shatter. Instead, I looked up.
My coach offered encouraging words without missing a beat. My husband was already skating over, asking if I was okay. My daughter stood by, concern in her eyes, my sweet girl, who had seen me push myself for her and for me.
I realized something important.
Yes, my hip hurt a little. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be.
I was okay.
More than okay. I was still in one piece, still on the ice, still standing (well, sitting—but you get the idea).
So I got up.
Shaky. Sore. Embarrassed.
The anxiety hit harder than the fall. I felt like everyone saw me mess up. That little voice in my head kept whispering, “You should’ve stayed on the sidelines.”
But another voice—one I’m learning to trust more—said, “You fell, but you got up. And that matters.”
After class, as I unlaced my skates and took a deep breath, something clicked.
I had faced my biggest fear—and I survived.
That is life, isn’t it?
We hold ourselves back all the time. Not because we can’t do something, but because we’re afraid of falling, afraid of being seen in our most vulnerable, messy moments. We cling to the wall, not because we lack potential, but because safety feels better than risk. But if we always hold on, we never learn. We never move forward. We never grow.
Falling hurts sometimes. It can bruise our bodies, sure, but more often, it bruises our pride. The embarrassment stings worse than any sore muscle. But the magic isn’t in not falling. It’s in getting back up again.
That’s progress. That’s healing. That’s life.
And today, I did just that.
P.S. If you’ve been holding onto your own version of the “wall,” I see you. It’s scary to let go. But sometimes, the fall is where the lessons live. And I promise, you’re stronger than you think.
