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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
Old picture, new post Link in bio
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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New teacher

I absolutely love my Thursday class.
Ms. Lori has been subbing the Advanced Ballet class, so this last week was only our second time to have her teach us.
She’s so down to earth and kind, she’s human and accepts the fact that we are as well.
She doesn’t expect us to be perfect, but does expect us to do our best; that’s how we learn, and if we knew everything, she wouldn’t have a job.

You can just tell that this is what she loves; she loves the art, and she loves the people that encompass the art. What more could you ask for in an educator?
(Bonus points: she knows Jilissa. I was blown away by her empathy towards us in our first class.)

At the end of class, she got us all together and really expressed her heart for this art form. She told us how special it is that we get to be a part of something like this. It takes athleticism, but it also requires artistic ability. People can paint, people can play a song, people can do all these things but dance is the thing that requires you to become your art form. I read a quote yesterday that expressed how it’s the art form that doesn’t leave you anything tangible, just that feeling you get when you are in the moment.

I think that’s another reason I love it.
The history, the artistry, and that fleeting moment of tangibility you dedicate all this time and effort to achieve.

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