I took a nasty spill skating when I was about 12 years old. It was mortifying. Not only did I crack my tailbone, but they cleared the damn rink!

No 12 year old girl wants to be the awful skater who falls on their butt and clears the rink. No 12 year old girl wants to be seen crying and carrying on like that. I went roller skating with friends a handful of times after, but for the most part, my days of being a rink rat were behind me.

I took up skateboarding instead.

Until, age 15, I took a bad fall in front of my then-boyfriend and cracked my elbow. My poor mom had come home to find us in my then-bedroom, me crying, him looking all angsty, and asked “what the hell happened here?” to hear “I broke your daughter!” in response. Not the wisest choice of words in that situation. Regardless, it was embarrassing to fall in front of my then-boyfriend, and I had to have a rather awkward conversation with my mom. I had a habit of dating the skater boys throughout high school (and after, truth be told), but I didn’t really try to be a bad-ass myself after the elbow crack and subsequent embarrassment when I was 15.

That brings me to now. Looking back I don’t think I quit doing things on wheels because I was bodily injured. I think it had more to do with soul injury; the utter and complete embarrassment of a level that only teenage girls can experience. Nowadays I could care less if I fall in front of people. I whiffed it at practice last night and made a Facebook update about how I hoped I’d have a gnarly bruise from it. Maybe it is confidence that comes with age; that much-promised era of not caring who cares that comes with your 30s. I think it has more to do with the support network of all the awesome ladies around me when I fall. I swear, before my butt even touched the ground someone was asking if I was ok.

I’ve promised myself that no matter how bad the fall, or how dumb I look falling, or even how hurt I end up, I am not going to give this up. Honestly, getting hurt doesn’t even faze me. I mean, I managed to tear a rotator cuff, sprain an ankle, get 2 concussions and a splinter in my eye while working in a bookstore. Nothing in derby hurts as much as taking an Herb Ritts monograph upside the head. Besides, a derby bout without some exciting wipe-outs doesn’t sound like any fun.