There was hardly anyone in class yesterday.
I’m not sure what the cause was for the lack of people–if there’s another bout of the flu going around, if there’s rampant exams, if they’re burnt out from rehearsals, etc.–or if I preferred it being a smaller class or not, but I made it through.
It was rough, especially after having my little dance heart stomped on this weekend.
yeah, no, you’re not getting an explanation on that one. But I knew that the one way to heal from that is to get up and keep going. To face everything that hurt you. To not just cower away and let it win.
After class, two of the mom’s of two of our younger dancers that are insanely good were in the foyer waiting for the class after mine to end. One of them actually lives a bit farther out than I do and recently learned we were practically neighbors. She struck up conversation with me when my class ended, and managed to keep conversation until the class was over. No one here really knows me, like really knows me, and it was pretty cool to have someone asking me questions about myself.
“How long have you been dancing?”
“I think it’s so great that you started dancing as an adult.”
“We’re really glad you’re at this studio, why did you decide on this one?”
“Yeah, I didn’t understand the rivalry at first. Weird, isn’t it?”
“It was so great of you to take all those pictures backstage! Thank you so much! What made you think to do that?”
“Do you take other pictures? Besides dance ones? You should put up your business card!”
“That’s what so great here, they see the value. Everyone is valuable.”
“Every time we pass your house insert daughter’s name here always points it out.”
“What are your costumes like for Oz?”
“How are rehearsals going?”
Like, seriously, it made me feel good.
I guess it didn’t hit me how difficult it is to do what I do at my age. Not necessarily physically, but mentally. Although, physicality sure does play a part. There is so much that goes into it that you don’t really think about. And then not knowing anyone, and no one knowing me, sometimes the judgement feels heavy. And sometimes my interpretation of what other people think or feel is completely wrong, I just don’t know until I’m told. And most don’t know me to say anything.
It can be difficult maintaining optimism throughout.
To try and keep the spirits up for everyone else when they express self doubt.
It’s just difficult.
But, the Mom voiced it, and maybe that’s when it actually started sinking in,
“You just don’t give up.”
I could have. So many times, I could have.
But, I guess I don’t.
I want this.
It would hurt more to give up than all of these opposing pains.
I just won’t give up.