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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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Day two.

The Airess are out.
I don’t know how it is that pointe shoes feel one way in the store, and another in the studio, but it seems to happen to me really often.
Sadly, it’s money down the drain for me. Maybe I should have taken more time or care in the fitting? I don’t know. Whatever, nothing that can be done now.
(anyone need a pair of sewn size 9 hard-shanked Airess?)
(but really.)

Class Thursday went fairly decently. It was different than I was used to since it was technically a Choreography class. I thought about not taking it, but I want to take the Variations class afterwards, and I’ve never taken choreography so maybe it’d be good exposure in such an easy-going environment as that with the youngin’s.

Thankfully, there wasn’t anything too invasive, although there were moments me and my fellow IV were rather nervous about it. After explaining the basics of choreography, Ms. Heidi assigned “team captains” and split us into groups. She made sure there were captains from each level, so I was the level IV captain, and then let us pick who would be in our group until we ran out of people putting most groups with three people and a few with four.
She said the team captain had the option of being in the dance, or just choreographing it on the group. She would play the music and we would come up with however much we could in our limited time. She told us there were no rules. Technique wasn’t required in the sense of it all being strict ballet.

I picked Judy and Leah to be on my team. I easily could have picked my fellow IV, knowing she was one of the most skilled of the bunch, but I knew what it meant to these girls to be picked and I knew their hearts would be good.
(plus I actually knew their names. So, that helps.)

I asked them what they had thought or seen or felt when they heard the music. Judy said, “Rebuilding after the Civil War.” (Gosh, I love her.) She had a few counts of what she saw and showed me, which was actually really good. Leah said she thought of water flowing, which is what I had felt as well.
I decided to have Judy start out with one 8-count, then have Leah come in with the next 8-count. (kinda 16-count?) and if we had time I’d put myself into a count because they didn’t want to do it alone.
(I love these girls.)
So I took elements of Judy’s thoughts and made them flow a little differently, then asked Leah if there was anything she was better or worse at or more comfortable with since I didn’t know her ability as much as Judy’s. She’s a trooper, and was up for anything. I gave her a bit to work with and we ran it a few times before time was out. We also had to write it down a certain way, which the girls understood wonderfully (I struggled with it? But understand it. So it’s okay) and we were the last group to go.
Some of the groups were longer, some were really short. Some were more complex but didn’t really flow too smoothly, and some really showed great potential. The girls all did great with it. I was pretty impressed.
Judy and Leah were a little nervous, especially that they were dancing separately and we hadn’t really gotten to go over it all that much, but they completely rocked it. I was so proud. And Ms. Munro had been watching. When they finished, everyone was kind of quiet for a moment, but I think they were waiting for more. It was a good silence, and after we finished, it was the only one Mrs. Munro complimented.
*dusts shoulders off*
(But really it wasn’t me, Judy had the main great idea, and Leah really nailed her part. I was so proud. team awesome.)

For Variations, Abby taught us the Bluebird variation.
It. Was. So. Fun.
I was mad, though, because my shoes were holding me back, so I almost rolled my ankle umpteen times and it was frustrating.
But what I could do of it was really fun.
It was a little difficult at parts, but only because of the way I learn things. I have to go over them a bunch and figure out all the transitions before I can do it all well. By the time I had it down, my toes were dying. So that sucked. I need to find my lambs wool so I can try a few things. Because this ain’t cutting it and my toes die and it is really sad and now I’m rambling and meh.

Abby and I had a private lesson after variations. She looked at my feet and assessed the shoes and my issues etc etc.
She pointed out the issues in my alignment and showed me how to correct it. It was difficult mentally, not because of her or anything, but because it felt physically impossible to do the things she was saying. It felt flat out wrong and made me feel like I used to feel with math as a kid when I knew what they were saying but it just wasn’t clicking in my head and I wanted to claw my eyes out. (I don’t know how else to describe it?)
But the great thing is I can tell Abby these things and she helps me through them.

After picking it apart and evaluating like I do, I realized part of my issue is that it looks wrong to me because I don’t look like what I’m used to seeing of proper technique.
I’m not your typical ballet body build.
My butt and boobs stick out and there’s nothing I can do about it.
But it doesn’t make me wrong, it’s just different. It’s more obvious on me because I have more of it.

At the end of the day, I was able to see what Abby was saying and feel the difference of most of it. Part didn’t click until I felt the different muscles that were sore the next day, but they’re really difficult muscles to work.

I ended up with knots all up my back from sleeping on a too-soft bed so I wasn’t able to work on it any more yet (yep, still in pain. ugh) but I’m at least hopeful.

My right foot also still seems to favor putting weight on the little toes instead of the big toe. I turn better on this foot, since I use more of the platform and the left foot puts it all dramatically onto just the big toe, which isn’t good either.

Sigh.
Lots to work on.
But better now than continuing incorrectly and it being harder to fix later.

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