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Mischief Managed.
I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. #leakycon #leakycon2018
Y’all, check out my friend Baileys announcement!! I’m so excited for her and super pumped to watch this series she’s a part of! #Repost @catchingbreaths with @get_repost ・・・ The concept is simple: follow someone’s journey from surgery to stage. Showing the life of a mucus mutant. Showing the life of a bilingual Deaf family. Showing the life of a dancer and @companythreesixty dancers. It technically hits all the hashtags: #spoonie #deaf #adultballerina #bodypositive #chronicillness. It hopefully connects with many communities and provides another voice in the chorus of those wanting representation in media abound. It is positive: a positive network with a positive focus wanting to counter the negative swarmy troll farm that is most modern media to date. But... what if the concept becomes a reality? What if I show not just the recovery from latest rounds of surgeries... but the pain and swelling and funk between? What if I don’t fulfill some sort of diagnostic paradigm being that I am an Atypical diagnosis (and someone who hopes not to be defined by that anyways where I can)? What if we capture not just the invigorating process of putting together a show with women I ferociously admire and protect... but also, how totally messy dance life can be? What if we showcase a family that’s equal parts Deaf as hearing... yet our variable mix of signing, reading lips, caption and speech isn’t in keeping with what the world wants from us? Choosing to share our story has come with a lot of IFs... but we are braving it none the less. Although I can’t believe our pilot episode premiered TODAY and that I can finally announce the news... fear of judgement subsists. Can perspective, positivity and living an imperfect life as openly as possible actually be of benefit? The verdict is still out... but I’m excited to try. I’m excited to see. And I’m excited to get started.▪️Click Link In Bio To Watch The Pilot Or Go To:▪️#CatchingBreaths
The builders weren’t out today, so I decided to have one last hoorah in our still empty, hurricane Harvey-Ed house. They’ve finally begun repairs, and I’m super pumped for it to be fixed, but also a bit sad at the loss of the house as we knew it and how it was growing up. Here I’m in our game room, the red wall is my bathroom, and to the right is my old bedroom, where I was the night before the storm came. The bed I slept on had ceiling and insulation fallen on it the next day. Still pretty surreal almost a year out. TL;DR I love my new @sodancausa dance sneakers I got from @cinqdanceessentials ! Super pumped for the new year!
We had a guest teacher in class last night. I wrote a blog post about it! Link is in the bio. (Spoiler. It was wonderful.) Thank you so much, @linds779 for teaching us! (Ps. My shirt is from @balletlibrarian ‘s book Cantique, you can totally still get ya one. It’s my favorite, obviously.) PD: photo of me and Lindsi Dec from Pacific Northwest Ballet after class.
Once upon a time, my toes used to touch the floor.

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“Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.”
Stay with me here.
I’m not trying to throw religion in your face or anything, but this scripture I memorized as a child further emphasized my point I’ll be trying to make in this blog.

Yesterday I was texting with a friend who is facing a lot of challenges in her life currently. She made the brave decision to start counseling, and was letting me know how her first session went.
In the conversation, I told her about my experiences with counseling and how it has helped me now that I no longer need to go anymore (although, confession, I miss it.) I told her how the things I was told in my sessions still echo in my mind when I find myself in complex situations and how it helps me cope with the overwhelming grief I find myself faced with.

Now why am I telling things about my deep dark secrets of my life? Why am I shining light on the sorrow?
Because of–do, do do!–what ballet taught me in this situation.

For some reason, when someone “Shares their testimony” or just suddenly goes into a story about their troubled past or whatever, I roll my eyes. Something inside of me cringes. Not that I don’t think people’s stories are valuable–quite the opposite. I love that everyone has a different story that has shaped and molded them into the person they are today. And honestly, if someone asks me anything it has a way of becoming a long, detailed explanation. But I really don’t like that about myself and try my hardest to condense it. Because who really wants to ask a simple question and get bombarded with a 20-minute-plus long story? Not many. Not everyone sees the importance in the details. Most people don’t care. I try really hard to get the point and let them control where they want the conversation to go from there. If they want more details, they can ask. I don’t mind telling. But if they don’t, then they aren’t overwhelmed.
There’s too freaking much to me anyway.
So when I found myself typing out this text, with some details about my session, I had a flash of what support groups must be like. I felt sick to my stomach. I felt stupid.
I sent it anyway.
And my friend’s response was a positive one. It was encouraging to her.

That’s when I thought of ballet.

In class, when you’re not dancing, you’re watching someone who is. This used to bother me, because I felt like they were judging me and laughing at all my faults.
sometimes I can still feel this way, but it’s usually just on days where I’m emotionally exhausted.
But that’s not what they do.
They watch to learn.
They watch to see what you’re doing and how it relates to them.
Not to think, “Oh my gosh, she’s perfect and I’ll never be.” or “Hah! did you see her sickled foot??” of “Her arabesque sucks.”
They watch to think, “Oh, that’s probably what mine looks like, I should turn out more.” or, “I wonder if that’s why I fall out of my turns, I should try that.” or “Okay, remember to pull up in the hip.”

They watch not to judge you, but to judge themselves.
To glean information on how to improve themselves.

In the studio, you are vulnerable. You are watched. You have to be if you want to improve, and you won’t improve unless you let yourself be.
And this is what I thought of as I typed that text.
I have to let myself be vulnerable. This is the part of me that needs to be shown so someone else can glean something from it. Just like I’m learning things from her and other friends whose lives I get to experience.

People don’t have to know or see everything about you. They’ll make their judgments regardless–and I can promise you, if you’re trying your hardest to be your best, their judgments won’t be negative.

Another blog for another day.
Maybe today.
Who knows.

I do know I want to journal about it, too, so we’ll see.

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