The Joy of Skiing Together

He says: “When you were learning to ski, it was so hard to ski with you. You were always so frustrated. I just wanted to see you enjoy yourself.”

She says: “I was frustrated because I felt like I wasn’t good enough to ski with you!”

He says: “I didn’t care how good you were, I just wanted to see you having fun.”

She says: “Oh.”

I learned to ski in 2010, as an adult which is notoriously hard—and my boyfriend at the time taught me, which everyone (literally everyone) warns against and with good reason. Learning to ski was hard. I, apparently, made it harder on myself emotionally than it needed to be.

The revelatory conversation above took place between my now-ex and me around 8 years after he taught me to ski, but it resonates for so many situations beyond the ill-fated lessons—although it should be noted that I am now a pretty badass lil skier.

Recently, I was back in Aspen, where I first learned to ski, and hiking Highlands Bowl, an expert-level hike and ski expedition, with a bunch of locals who had to wait on me constantly. I started to get frustrated with myself, but thinking back on my conversation with my ex, reframed my thinking to convince myself: “this is where you’re at, and you’re in paradise doing one of your favorite things in the world” …

Surprise! It made the entire trek much more enjoyable for me—and then I could be funny with all of my friends instead of defensive! Turns out no one really minded waiting, and they were very happy I was happy!

While this story is partially about communication—yes, things could have been different if the ex and I could have each communicated our feelings in the 2010 moment—I think it is more importantly about my own vulnerability. I don’t HAVE to be anything other than me, where I’m at. I don’t have to be perfect, or meet any expectations for me that anyone else has set.

In fact, me where I’m at is where I am most able to be loved and enjoyed.

Category: Style

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