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Emilee

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My front facing camera broke on my phone, making my already limited picture taking even MORE limited. Have a throw back from last spring. I have a blog post in the works. Life has been kinda nutty, my laptop *also* bit the dirt, and things have been kind of overwhelming. Y’all are always on my mind, though! You’ll be hearing from me soon. 💕
Classes yesterday brought to you in part by @leakycon (I don’t usually dress up for costume week, but i do try and incorporate Harry Potter to some degree 🤷🏼‍♀️)
New blog post, link in bio!
My friend Bailey and her company @companythreesixty made this and I have no more words to add. It’s perfect. #Repost @catchingbreaths with @get_repost ・・・ Why didn’t I report? I didn’t report because I thought that if I’m in a relationship with someone, it meant it was equally my fault. I thought the years of unhealthy feelings towards myself which ensued, were still invalid since it could have been worse. I thought I shouldn’t tell my Momma until a couple of years later on a beautiful mountain walk together, and even then, I softened the story from shame for how I’d appear to the person I love the most. I didn’t report because we live in a world where men use sentences like “it can always be worse” as psychological shrapnel. A world that tells us we should have done more to stop it. A world that, even when I remember the attempts to push away as clearly as consciousness cinema, I was scared to push too hard because I didn’t want to make someone mad. A world that makes me worry at sharing, because I have young students and ‘should be a role-model’: with a role model being pure, respectable, elite, undamaged. Now, a mother, wife, champion, boss... I still worry to report as innocuously as through a #WhyIDidntReport hashtag, lest I somehow appear less for having shared. But as someone who’s survived a darkness far worse than that described, and Shawshanked her way to a life of light- save for second glances over shoulders- I can say that the hardest person to report to is actually... yourself. It’s the you that you had once hoped to be. The you that you’ll never be again. The you that you wish you could go back and protect. The you you wish you had been (louder, less in shock, less weak). The you that once was but was taken. To all the Yous you once were reading this (and the You in me who still feels cemented by shame)... this should never have happened. It doesn’t matter how loud, quiet, forceful... how well you knew them.... You didn’t deserve to lose You because your body wasn’t left as yours. None of us do. None of us ever will. There is no good way to end this bit of writing, because the truth is: it hasn’t ended. A perfect sentence will not wrap this up. Y
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Teaching on my birthday is my favorite thing. Hi, I’m 30, and I gave full sized cupcakes to three year olds and I’m sure their parents hate me

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Take 5

We’ve been on a 2 week break from dance class
And I fear I will go crazy.

It’s amazing the difference it has in my deeper life, rather than just the boost it gives me with movement.
It’s as if there is this little person that lives inside of me. And it’s full of thoughts and ideas and commentary for everything I do (recently, it’s resembled the Olympic commentators…) and it constantly feeding my brain. This little minion in my head can be wonderful and encouraging or it can turn on me in an instant and reduce me to tears and worthlessness.
Dance puts him in place.
It challenges his ideas, exposes his lies, and seems to give him kinder things to throw in my head.

The difference 2 weeks can make is astounding.
But I’ve been able to notice and–on good days–separate the truth from lies.
Honestly, I didn’t expect that.

Starting next week, I’ll be taking two classes a week instead of just one.
My dance teacher said that to even be considered for pointe, this is what I need to do. So I took a big step and put my foot down at work and told them it was something I had to do.
I’m really excited.
I know my schedule is gonna be insane, but I’m excited to be able to do this.
I love my studio.
I love my teacher.
I love my classmates.
I love knowing that I’m going to get to do twice as much as I have before. And will, ultimately, be learning and solidifying things twice as fast.

🙂

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