In Pursuit of Joy: Ellie Goes Ice Skating

Gosh well that was a lot of introduction to what was meant to be a post about how much I love ice skating. I wasn't quite expecting to go so very deep in those last two posts (part 1 part 2) but I think the short version is that I've had to do a lot of work on myself to both find and not feel guilty about feeling joy.

I'm finally writing about the thing that I thought the first post would be about and I'm already on my third draft as Beth tells me the first two are too much of a fan club about my coach!

I'm sat here wondering what I want to say about Ice skating and why I love it so much. This parts going to focus on trying to help you understand the joy that was denied because of my gender dysphoria and the joy that been allowed through truly living as myself.

There's a book called "All the things they said we couldn't have: Stories of trans joy"

by Tash Oakes-Monger. They write so beautifully about the bittersweetness of trans experience and how finding joy is one of the best bits of transition and is so rarely spoken about. We usually only talk about our pain because, we think that that's what helps people understand but we don't transition to be miserable. We transition to find peace and happiness and contentment but that's the bit we rarely talk about. Reading Tash's book really resonated with me, they brought a tear to my eye to feel the shared understanding that is so hard to describe but implicitly shared by all of us, we avoided any situation that contrasted who we knew ourselves to be with how we knew the world wanted us to be.

And well this is my story of trans joy.

When I was little, about 7, my family got massively into ice skating. I absolutely loved spending time on the ice gliding around feeling fast and free. I was always 'slow' at sports, always last in the race. Running and other sports just felt hard, and I got teased endlessly at not being very good. but not skating it felt so easy. We eventually started taking lessons, and I don't remember much about them. I didn't get very far, I just started learning to go backwards. I used to look at the figure skaters and be so awestruck at what they could do. I watched the olympics and just desperately wanted to do what they were doing. There were two problems however. Even at that age I was so intensely aware that how I saw myself, very much as Torvill and not Dean, was not something that was possible for me. Everything around me was a reminder of what I could not be. The skates the people and the outfits. At the age of 7 I'd internalised my sense of 'wrongness' so much it was too painful to consider figure skating as an option. I realise now that this was my gender dysphoria rearing it's ugly head but I didn't have a clue about why I felt so conflicted at the time.

The second issue was that my family were very into ice hockey. We'd watch the Seahawks every weekend, my dad would tell bed time stories about the Hockey player who had a spring sewn into his shorts so he could never get knocked down and took on the world. My brother very much wanted to play, and as the dutiful little brother I followed. Everyone's the same in ice hockey there's no 'roles' that you are bound by so in that sense I got to skate and not have to deal with the

feelings that figure skating had generated. Unfortunately it was a sport full of boys growing up together and being the 'not really a boy' that I always was I never felt part of the team. I made it to under 12s; then the fighting entered the rink and I was out.

Something that had brought me such happiness in the early days had become a painful experience that I was glad to leave behind. I occasionally went skating recreationally through university but then I didn't go again.

Nearly 20 years later, I didn't think much about those days. I was in the process of transitioning, life was full already. Beth had found the cello but I still hadn't found my thing. As you'll know from Part 1 we were learning to 'say yes' to things and Beth suggested we go ice skating at the new ice rink in Leeds. So there we were in our hire skates and jeans (Sorry Millie) about to step on the ice for the first time

in 20 years. Initially I was hanging on to the barrier but I quickly re-found my ice legs and was whizzing around and I was in love. I was immediately 7 years old again but this time I was a 7 year old without all the hang ups of others perceptions and expectations of me. I didn't have to hide the part of me that was crying out to try and be graceful and lovely and beautiful on the ice. I was rubbish but I was authentically me.

Then I face planted so hard on the ice, the kind of fall that makes everyone stop and go quiet. I think I gave myself an arrhythmia. Certainly enough to drop my blood pressure as I had to go lie down on the side of the ice to stop myself from fainting. The ice rink staff were slightly concerned but we pulled the 'Don't worry, we're doctors' card and they left us alone. I was fine 10 minutes later and had a bit of a sore knee but I was still smiling more than I had in years and at that point I knew I'd found my thing.

I HAD to do it again and I HAD to pursue it for myself and see what I could do, but how? where do you even start. A trans person beginning a sport that isn't exactly known for its inclusivity. So I set about carving myself a path to allow me to properly and fully throw myself in at the deep end. I needed skates, and whilst skates have no gender, as a general rule women wear white skates and men wear black. So I needed white ones. Problem 1. They don't make white skates in my size.

Not to be deterred I started email the manufacturers directly. This meant learning who made figure skates and which ones might work. Edea and Risport had nothing on their website about customisation and didn't really have obvious contact details so I wrote them off. I tried Jackson Ultima first explaining the situation. Their response was 'Paint them or use boot covers' mmmmm interesting but no. So then I tried Riedell and I happened upon the very lovely Christine. She initially came back and said that I'd need full custom made boots at a mere £1000 + but then she checked directly with the manufacturing team and they offered to make me a pair of 'stock' boots in white for just an £80 surcharge, only problem was I couldn't buy direct from them but needed to go through a dealer. My closest one was in Blackpool, Al's skate shop, (they're great btw go buy

your skates from them) I emailed again explaining the situation and Alison was totally understanding and we got them ordered!

Problem 2. I needed a coach. I'm a 39 year old beginner who also happens to be a trans woman, I didn't imagine I was that attractive a prospect for a coach but I was in pursuit of joy so take a risk I must!

I googled 'figure skating coach West Yorks'. I needed someone with an email address because messaging directly was just a bit too daunting, and someone I thought skated like I would like to. Fortunately the only coach who happened to have an email address I could find, Millie Paterson, is also the most beautiful skater. (I've put a very small video of her teaching me something 'simple' [it's not simple] later on just so you can see the ridiculous grace she skates with)

However, there was nothing to tell me if she would be accepting of me or not and so I came to a decision point, would I be brave and take a chance in the hope of joy or revert to type and take the 'definitely safe but denying myself the chance of joy' option.

I sent the email. I anxiously refreshed my inbox and Millie replied within 45 minutes, we arranged a time to start and so my journey of letting my free child run away with me began.

The feeling of stepping out on to the ice, the freedom of performing patterns and exercises, being able to completely geek out and study skills or understand something better to my hearts content, to be curious and not be ridiculed, to be happy and not be told you should be doing something else is something I'd never thought I'd experience. In that space I'm just me, I don't have to pretend to be something I'm not anymore and it's amazing. I'm so grateful to Beth for allowing me to indulge myself in this, and I love that she is able to share in some of the joy.

I'm so lucky to have Millie who supports me, and takes my desire to be the best I can be seriously, despite knowing I'm never going to boost her coaching credentials, but also accepts and understands the conflicts I have with myself still about being openly trans in a world that isn't quite ready for me yet. My lessons with her are the favourite part of my week.

There's so many people I've encountered along the way who have helped me, Beth, Millie, Alison, Christine, Kelly, Kristen to name but a few that it has made me reflect that we all have a role in supporting other

people to find their joy. At any point one of these people could have stopped my pursuit of joy in its tracks but they didn't, they said yes, this

great, let us help you. It's made me think about how I respond to others joy, and how we should nurture an celebrate it even if we don't really understand why someone seems so attached to something.

I already think about what might stop me, competing feels like a no no in the current climate (except the Gay Games 2026!) as I move through the test structure will British Ice Skating support someone like me? How will I find appropriate outfits etc etc but these are a problem for another day.

Right now skating is about healing a very fragile, very lonely young girl. It's so much more to me than a hobby, so much more than obsession, it's giving voice to a part of me that was silent for so long. It's all the things they said I couldn't have.

I'll leave you with some of my progress videos. I'm proud of what I've achieved in 6 months but I also want you to have a think about when was the last time you did something just for the joy of it? If you can't remember I want to challenge you to do it. it doesn't have to be big and it doesn't need to take over your life but it should be just for you.

Thanks for reading as always and I hope you enjoyed it.

Ellie