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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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ramblings

I was really hopeful that I would be able to make it through the entire class yesterday, but alas:

Stupid ankle.
It’s not that it was necessarily hurting, but about 10 minutes in to barre, it started doing this weird thing where I could feel it grinding or crunching or however you want to describe it.
I have noticed this in my foot before, and it makes me hecka nervous.
I just want to dance, but I also don’t want to screw myself over by pushing through when I shouldn’t, instead of resting it while I still have the luxury of resting it. Pushing it now could be detrimental come Nutcracker.
I’m just really frustrated, because I was looking forward to class yesterday.

(see sad face)

I don’t want to lose all the strength I’ve gained and I don’t want to fall behind everyone else. That’s what happened last year; I was out with an injury then an organ removal (Dramatic sounding, I know.) and missed all those conditioning classes.
I need those classes. They’re what I’ve been looking forward to.
I’m trying not to let myself get all anxious. Especially with everything going on in life right now, it’d be easy to get lost in it. But I don’t have the luxury of succumbing to that right now. I have to keep it together.
So, I spent the class watching the other girls; trying to glean any bit of knowledge I can to help me better grasp everything in hopes that I’ll be better equipped when I can dance again.
Maybe it’s a good thing.
I have the pointe shoe fitting tomorrow have I mentioned how nervous I am? so maybe it’s a good thing my ankle didn’t let me get back into my old shoes. I’m hopeful they’ll be able to finally show me a shoe that fits.
Gah, I’m freakin’ Cinderella over here. Except, instead of taking a shoe all around to find the girl it fits, we’re taking the girl all around to find the shoe that fits.
Anyway. Hopefully my foot heals up before too long. I’m glad to have such a great class at such a supportive studio.
Our insurance guy at work called and when I answered he told me about his 4-year-old daughter starting ballet classes at my same studio. It made me happy.

I am thankful to have the chance to get pictures at my new studio. I haven’t pressed it too much since I’m still trying to get a feel for the place, but I’ll take any opportunity I can get.

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