I practically lived at my local rink growing up (RIP Penrith Skatel), but it all started pretty simply with Learn to Skate lessons when I was four years old. I don’t remember much about the lessons themselves, but I do remember the routine. Every Saturday, my sister Evie and I would head to the rink for our class, and afterwards there was always a public session where we’d spend the next two hours buzzing around the floor.
Dad would eventually try to call me off the rink, and I’d yell back, “One more lap!” Of course, it was never just one more lap. Week after week, Dad practically had to drag me away, even when I swore I was finished.
What started as one class and a public session each week eventually turned into more classes, private lessons, and extra training sessions, until I was competing at a national level. I don’t really remember the process itself — I mostly remember it all happening naturally. Training wasn’t something I had to force myself to do; it was simply part of my life, and I genuinely loved it. I loved learning new jumps and spins, and I was always proud to show people what I could do.
When I reached high school, I became much more aware of what people thought about roller skating. I never really understood why it was considered a “girly sport.” Male gymnasts wear leotards, divers do pirouettes through the air too, yet roller skating somehow carried this strange stigma. Apart from the aesthetic, there’s nothing easy or delicate about the sport. In fact, it’s incredibly difficult to make roller skating look elegant — something every beginner skater quickly learns. Learning new jumps meant falling hard onto the floor. I’d spin so fast my eyes would become bloodshot. I remember one period where my hands stayed swollen for two weeks because every time I fell, I slammed them into the concrete. But apparently, bloodshot eyes and bruises still weren’t enough for the boys playing C-grade soccer and rugby at my school to consider it a “real” sport.
When I was 15, I went to my first real international competition in Germany. Everyone there was incredible, and I quickly realised just how out of my depth I was. That competition was the first time I truly understood how much better I needed to become if I wanted to make any impact internationally. The skaters were honestly unbelievable, and more than anything, I wanted to be able to do what they could do. From that moment on, I pushed harder. Over time, I was fortunate enough to represent Australia at seven World Championships across four disciplines: Free Skating, Solo Dance, Show, and Quartet.
When COVID hit, the world seemed to rediscover roller skating, but for me, it felt like the right time to step away for a while. Skating had been such a constant in my life that I needed space to experience something different. I finished my studies, travelled, and eventually ended up living in Argentina for nearly two years.
In mid-2023, I started coaching at RollerFit. If you’re familiar with the Sydney skating scene, you’ll know it’s not easy to make a living as a coach. That’s why I’m incredibly grateful for the opportunity Stacey and RollerFit gave me, the chance to step into a coaching role and continue being part of the sport in a new way.
Now, I get to share what skating has given me. Coaching my regulars, meeting new skaters, and watching people build confidence on wheels is always the best part of my week.
