Personal Narrative Essay About Skating

My body slams into the ground. I get up wipe the dust off my back, pop my board into my hand, and sprint up the stair set for one more go. Growing up I fit the skateboarder stereotype, I was a skater boy who didn’t care about his future. Little did anyone know, skating was the one thing that kept me going.

I spent most of my days skating after school until dark only to come home to my parents screaming at me to throw my board in the trash. Coming from Bangladesh, my parents always wanted me to have a better life than they did, and skating did not fit into this life. Which wasn’t too big of a problem for me; I figured one day they would accept it, but until that day, I promised to keep skating.

Skateboarding helped me block all the negative parts of my life, so most days, I skated until I couldn't walk. While others played a sport they didn’t even enjoy for their résumé, I skated. While others took classes for the sake of their parents, I skated down the pavement for me. I could never be the star of the basketball team like my dad always wanted, but everything seemed okay when I stepped on my board. I pushed forward daily, and eventually landed most of the tricks I attempted. Because of skating, I built an optimistic mindset, believing that no matter how hard my life was at any moment, I just needed to preserve.
I tried a backside flip down a ledge and injured my ankle. I wasn’t the same after that day: countless physical therapy sessions, ice packs, or pills could never rewind time. Something was missing; I was not me without my board. Knowing that an ankle injury could ruin my skating career devastated me. Leading me to be consumed by sorrow. This was the first time in my life where I felt as if I had no value in this