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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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Last Summer Class

Yesterday was our last class of the summer.
I almost didn’t go because I was, once again, not feeling too hot.
(I’m really hoping this isn’t a trend, because if it is then Nutcracker will be a serious struggle.)

(We’ll cross that bridge when it gets here.)

I was really excited for class because a few of my friends I hadn’t seen since I left for Europe were there.
My day had been rather difficult, in one of those dance-will-either-hurt-or-help kind of ways and I was really hoping that them being there would sway it more towards the help side.

(It did.)

Mrs. Julie taught class. She’s the other Advanced teacher this next semester. She was also the choreographer/director for Oz and I’ve had her in a few classes this summer so I was excited for class.
(Plus she does hilarious voices and it just makes me really happy.)

She started class with these really slow, 8-count grand plies.
Two in each position. With a cambre coinciding with whichever position.
To say my legs were shaking by the end of it is a vast understatement.
I struggled to do anything else the rest of barre. I still tried with kinda minimal vocalization because I was freaking out but doing it anyway because I knew that some times this could happen and if it were a show what would you do?
Part of the time when she had us hold certain positions, I had to physically hold my leg out to keep it from frantically shaking. When we were to balance in second then fondu the standing leg to close, I literally couldn’t do it. My legs shook so hard my entire body shook and I couldn’t balance. I tried anyway, but had to quit sooner than normal. I didn’t count this as a loss, though. I knew that the shaking is proof that I’m working my muscles, and the right muscles, and I wasn’t the only one crazy-shaking so at least we’re all rowing the same boat.

Thankfully my legs had time to calm down before center, because she had us hold our leg in second and promenade. I struggled a little, but nothing as bad as what I thought.
There was also this complex degage combination we did at the barre that had patterns different than we were used to and used fast music (even though it was toned down.)
I’m pretty decent with patterns, so a few times through and one time messed up with music and I had it down. I can’t say the technique was great, but I got the pattern and intend to work on it in case she throws this on us again in the future. *dusts shoulders off*

I really liked the combinations we did in the center. They were more contemporary ballet, which I haven’t really gotten the opportunity to do. I have always wanted to, but never really thought I was “good enough.”
I was made to believe that I had to be a certain level of good before trying instead of coming to class to be taught which is what classes are for. I’m comfortable with Julie, now, and having been taught the Crow’s dance and gotten such positive feedback from it made me feel more confident in attempting these things she was giving us in class. Things I had never done before like the “firebird” jump and this other one-legged turn thing I don’t know the name of (so vague, right?) were attempted and executed successfully, even if they weren’t perfect. She didn’t care for perfection. She cared for proper attempt.
That, I was able to confidently give her.
(Which is new for me. I like it.)

I loved how I felt dancing these fun combinations. All of them. Even if there were parts I knew I wasn’t good at.
This is the first time I’ve truly felt this way in dance. That I wasn’t critical of myself. That I wasn’t nervous or afraid at all. I think I’ve brushed the surface of this before–like in Ms. Nathan-Murphy’s class–but not ever to the extent I was last night.
My hope is to get this confident on pointe. I’ve gotten there on flat, and now I want to get there on pointe. I’ll have to stick to the conditioning and training to get my strength up to feel more confident in my shoes, which I’ve already felt happening this summer. I can get there, I just have to keep working hard.

My legs are (obviously) sore this morning, but in a good way.

We have a Studio cleaning day next Saturday and Cheyanne gets to come with me. I’m really excited about this. I love her so much and feel a sort of bond with her, especially since we’re both out-of-town-ers. Her mom was telling me how excited Cheyanne was when I text her about getting to be in 6s before I wrote the blog post, which really meant a lot to my heart. It’s one thing to be excited, but to have people be excited with you takes it to a whole other level. I haven’t had that much in my life, its still new to me. I know people love and support me, but usually they are just doing that to be nice or whatever. It hasn’t often been genuine excitement and understanding of why it’s exciting.
Her younger sister also took class with us yesterday, and the little nugget was showing up the older kids left and right!
Cheyanne and I will be in *hopefully* 3 classes together this next semester. I still have to register and decide how much I can actually afford to take. That’s the struggle. I really hate money and the need for it. Especially since the main stress in my life is my source of income, and for reasons out of my control. (Mainly just generational differences, so that’s cool…)

Until all of that gets figured out, I’ll keep truckin’. I’m trying not to worry too much about things and hoping photography picks up again so I can have a bit of a buffer again. Cause, ya know, that buffer is gone right now.
(Europe pictures are still coming soon and it was totally worth it so)

I’m hopeful. And as long as you have hope, you can endure just about anything.

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