Hearing the music bounce and echo off the white and blue bricked walls made me feel like I’m on top of the world. My wheels spinning quickly yet softly. The 80’s party music ran through my body exiting with movements of dance. The glossy lit up wood floors gliding me in any direction I please. I felt like I could do anything in that ovaled room.

As a seven year old I would roller skate every single week with my clean white skates with neon pink wheels. I would watch and wish I could be as good as the “professional” skaters. I doubted myself every time I would go. Each mess up, my self esteem would lower and lower. Since I didn’t think I could succeed I gave up, missing the point of failing and learning from my mistakes. I starting trying other sports that I thought were cool. Basketball was a mess. I was not coordinated enough to bounce a ball into a basket I guess. I moved to dance. Something I was in for quite a while. Eight years to be exact. Dance was something I was actually good at. I finally became one of the best in the classes I was in. Freshman year, I decided to try out for varsity poms. I got in no problem. Each practice got harder and harder. I started not to love my passion that I’ve had for eight years. My coach screamed at us each practice making us do the dances over and over till we couldn’t even stand. We started doing harder tricks and more turns. Something I couldn’t do. Each time I lifted the ball of my foot to turn, my head spun instead of my body. I would fall, making my self esteem fall just like I did. I decided dance wasn’t my “thing” anymore and quit. I gave up all the hard work I put in.

My guilt finally started setting in by quitting everything I started. I despised going to family parties, and meeting up with old friends. “So what are you doing for sports or extracurriculars?” I always had to lie saying I was still doing dance or something I wasn’t. Nothing I tried ever agreed with my interests. 

Time has passed. The season turned cold, just like my interests. My cousin came over begging to go rollerskating. I agreed, even though that meant I had to go driving on the slick roads. Dreading to go, I tried thinking positive. Maybe I could pull off some of the moves I used to have. Spinning, crossing over, or going backwards. Even though I was doubtful, my cousin pulled me out on the rink. Pushing off each skate, nervous I would mess up or fall. I became faster and faster yet still wobbly. All of a sudden I felt the music run through my body. Each beat becoming my body’s movements. My perfectly clean white skates crossing over each other without me knowing. Maybe I could try roller skating again.

My “trying out roller skating again” became my new obsession. A friend and I would drive over to the outdated yet homey skating rink every weekend. We get in for a dollar less because we have our own skates. Pulling the neon yellow laces tighter and tighter to make sure the skates are snug. Wrapping around the laces in different directions and loops to ensure they do not become untied.

My friend and I set out on the glasslike floors. Gliding out one skate at a time to gain speed. Out and in. The music starts up with the beat. The 80’s synths start up, with a rapid and repetitive beat. “You ready to do this?“, my friend asked. “More than ever,” I replied. The robotic rhythmic words start, and the beat becomes more rapid. Our skates are in sync just like how we are with the music. Heads bobbing, our skates turn around swiveling in and out going backward and forward. A quick spin to bring us back to the front. The turn comes up just as the music gets quicker, crossing over each foot with a slight bounce of the leg. More people are joining. The music seems to take over our bodies as we are letting ourselves skate on air, doing whatever we please. Wheels turning, front wheels lifting, back wheels lifting, wheels leaving the ground. No rules, no nothing. Just a fun time. Moving our body from left to right just as the words state. We were having the time of our lives.

The song toned down to nothing, and another upbeat 80’s song came on. Us and the rest, rolled our wheels all night till we couldn’t anymore. The lights dimmed down till the pitch black sky visible. While driving back home in the dead of night, all I want to do was go back. Go back to the fun, go back to the painless activity.

Everywhere I walked my feet moved like I was still practicing on my skates. Walking through the stores pretending like I’m practicing a new trick... getting the weirdest looks. That’s when you know you love something. And if you love something, everything else rolls off your shoulders. After fourteen years of searching for my passion, I found it. Finding your passion for something can take days, months, or years. Overall, it may take time to find a passion, but in the end it’s worth it.