This is it – after a few weeks of intense training with Nate – I'm making my debut at Nationals. They will be deciding who will represent the U.S. Figure Skating Olympic Team after this competition. I know I haven't been skating all year but if I medal here, I will have a chance to return to the Olympics and defend my title. I try not to freak out. My hands are sweating. I haven't felt this nervous in a really long time.

I hear people gossiping about whether or not I will do the triple axel again. It helped me earn gold at the last Olympics so I've been working on it. And Nate feels that I'm strong enough – I just don't know if I'm mentally prepared to do it. So many people have their eyes on me. It's hard performing your best when you're under a microscope. It's easy to tell yourself to ignore the stares and the whispers, it's another thing to listen.

We're called off the ice so the competition can begin. As I exit, I lock eyes with Sharon, my former coach. My stomach twists remembering the awkwardness of our last phone call. She smiles at me, but I can't bring myself to smile back. I guess I felt more betrayed than I thought by her unwillingness to help me when I needed her most. I look away and try to head back to find Nate. But Sharon catches up to me.

"Lainey!" She grabs my arm and turns me around. It takes all of my strength not to tear my arm from her clutches. "I just wanted to say good luck. I'm glad you made it after all."

"Okay thanks." I pull my arm away from her and try to make a quick exit. She reacts.

"Are you mad at me Lainey?" she shouts above the crowd.

I turn and face her again, formulating an appropriate response. "No, Sharon, I'm not mad. I've just had time to realize who my true friends and family are. And I don't have time for anyone else right now. You understand, right?" And with that, I make my exit.

I'm near the end of the line up so I find a quiet corner and sit down and put on some music. I close my eyes and I let my mind wander, trying not to listen to the spectators clapping after each performance.

"Lainey."

I look up and it's Nate. I take off my head phones.

"It's time." He walks away to give me a moment. He knows I appreciate the quiet ritual of putting on my skates. This time, I don't need to tape them up. They are new and perfectly stiff.

I lace up my boots and I try to ignore the flip-flops in my stomach. I keep telling myself that I can do this. I've been to hell and back. This should be easy. I take of my track suit and check my make-up one last time. I pack my bag and walk to Nate. He takes my bag from me. It's been a short time but it feels like Nate's been my coach forever.

"You're going to be great," he says, in his thick Russian accent.

"Thanks Nate – for everything. I wouldn't be here without you." I hug him tight, trying to suck as much strength from him.

He kisses me on the forehead and whispers, "Enjoy yourself."

I glide out onto the ice. On my way, something catches my eye in the stands. I focus my gaze on a familiar face – it's Cory. And just like that, I stop dead in my tracks. The entire rink hushes as they wonder what I'm doing. Only I can't move. My heart jumps into my throat. Cory leans forward and stares at me – and that's when I realize it's not him. I take a deep breath only I'm shaking. I can't help it – the tears start flowing. The last time I was competing, Cory was my rock. I realize how much I miss him. I wipe the tears away and skate to my first position.

I get to my starting point and I settle into my pose. A hush falls over the rink. Everyone including me waits for the song to begin and when it does, I smile immediately. It's the theme song to Rudy. At the first note, the crowd roars. They love the music! Yes! I push off with my right skate and I face all the judgment of the crowd and skate my heart out – for good or bad.

I prepare for my first jump – I am going to go for it and do a triple axel – and as I take off, I know it's not right. I trim the revolutions and a triple axel becomes a single. The crowd gasps and instead of caving to the reaction, I find energy in it. I'm not perfect but I can always entertain and enjoy skating for the crowd. I take every ounce of passion I have for my sport and I give it to this performance. I land every jump and execute every spin to the best of my ability. I give it my all.

I end my routine full of strength and power. I am elated. No matter the results, this is a personal victory for me. I proved to myself that I could come back and on my own terms.

I head to the Kiss and Cry area and wait for the results. Nate greets me with a kiss on the cheek and he hands me a bouquet of flowers.

"These are from your mom and dad." I look up to where they're sitting and I wave. They both wave back and give me two thumbs up. Well at least I know they aren't disappointed in me.

Nate, on the other hand – I can tell he's disappointed but he's trying not to show it. I know he had high hopes I would nail the axel and medal. But that didn't happen so we wait and see how the judges respond. I've been in this position so many times, anxiously waiting on the judges to determine their scores. Tonight feels different though. I'm not feeling like my entire fate is in their hands.

I take a seat and relief washes over me. Nate takes my hand and we wait. The silence is deafening as everyone stares at me with pity in their eyes. I know my chances are slim that I'll make the Olympic team so when I come in fourth place and there's no chance of another Olympics, I'm not devastated like everyone suggests. I give Nate a hug. I'm proud of all the work I did to get here. And now it's time for me to gracefully pass the torch to the new generation of U.S. figure skaters. I stand and wave to the crowd for the last time. They clap and cheer in response.

Nate and I leave the Kiss and Cry area. He puts his arm around me and whispers, "To me, that was a gold medal performance."

"Thanks Nate – you know all the right things to say to a girl." He winks at me and soon the media is all of over me, with questions flying at me left and right. One question stands out, "How do you feel about not making the Olympic Team?"

How do I feel? Do they really want to know that I'm actually okay with it? Or do they want me to be sad or angry or disappointed? All of the above?

"I started skating because I saw a young girl skate her heart out and win the Olympics. And I wanted to be just like her. I wanted to skate my heart out and inspire other young girls and boys to do the same. I came here today to win and I've done just that. I may not have won a medal or made the Olympic Team but I won my life back. A little over a year ago, I almost died. And I couldn't walk without pain. But because I have such amazing people in my life who believe in me, I am here today competing amongst the best again. So how do I feel about not making the Olympic Team? Well, I've made it in so many other ways that I would be a fool to walk away from this experience without feeling proud. I wish the very best to my U.S. competitors who will make up the current Olympic Team – I hope it's a 1-2-3 sweep! It's been an amazing ride. Thank you to all my fans for your eternal support and thank you to Nate, my coach for believing in me. And thanks to my mom – I know it's been hard on you to let your baby go, but I'm ready to move on to a new chapter in my life. I will be forever grateful for all of the sacrifices you've made for me. And to my dad and my brother for always being there for me through the good times and the bad. I also have to thank another person who isn't here ... I owe him so much – my life actually. Thank you!"

The journalists whip into a frenzy and I leave the microphones, completely unfazed about my unknown future.