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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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Perfection.

Jilissa made a good point in class yesterday.

“You’re never going to be perfect.”
She’s right.
No matter how hard we try, it is physically impossible to be absolutely perfect.
She followed it up with this,
“So, if you can’t be perfect, you might as well enjoy what you’re doing. You might as well have fun!”
She also added,
“Just because you can never be perfect doesn’t mean you shouldn’t strive for perfection.”
I think there’s a scripture about this. I tried finding it, but I don’t remember what it is.
But it proves it’s point.

Ballet is all about perfection. It’s about technique, it’s about specifics, it’s about being exact. And no matter how close to perfection someone may get, they’re never going to be fully perfect. There will always be room for improvement. There will always be new things to learn and tweak.
So don’t beat yourself up if you can’t get it exactly right every time.

But, this doesn’t give us excuse to be lazy.
Even though perfection is impossible, we should still strive to be our best. Why would we want to do anything half way? And honestly, even if you don’t have everything exact, as long as you love what you do, it’s going to show. People are going to enjoy watching that.

In dance, as in life,
Perfection doesn’t matter, having heart does.

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