Women from a very young age are taught they are not allowed to fail. In skateboarding, you have no option but to fail, again, and again. This emphasizes the irony of the misogyny common in this extremely male dominated sport.
Coming into the skate community was one of the scariest things I ever did. My heart thumped every time I showed up to the skate park, meaning I’d have to see people skating, and have to see them seeing me: watching me fail, and watching me be a beginner, something society tells women is not a “good look” on us.  I heard the things people would say about girls at the skate park; that they were searching for male attention, that they were naturally always going to be bad at skating, that they were just posers.  Men would avoid me, avert their gaze, or be blatantly rude to me. Being a feminine presenting person in this space means having a negative encounter like this is inevitable.​
​Although I have found my fair share of chuckle heads at skateparks, I have also found an extremely warm, friendly community within skateboarding. I have met so many incredible people and women skaters who don’t judge me--or anyone--for their skill level, and they understand everyone is just having fun. They taught me how to be okay with being a beginner, and how to laugh at my own mistakes. Skateboarding forced me to take the shame and embarrassment of being bad at something, and of falling on my butt over and over again, into something I could actually be proud of. This series paints a glimpse of my experience as a femme skater, and the journey I’ve had so far along with my friends.