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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
Old picture, new post Link in bio
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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Feast of Sharing

Now that I’ve officially embarked on eating my weight in junk food–which is totally logical since we don’t have class for a few weeks–I figured I’d take a second to give y’all an update.

Today we had a promotional event called Feast of Sharing. It’s an annual event here locally put on by H.E.B., a grocery store chain pretty big in Texas, every Christmas Eve to provide a holiday dinner to anyone in the community. They make it a huge event with arts and crafts, kids zone, and performances by locals. It’s not just in our area; HEB hosts this event all over the state. Members of the company go and do a few parts of Nutcracker. I’ve never gone before, but went this year. It was a lot of fun! We actually had a good amount of dancers able to make it, so the whole thing worked out pretty slick!

(once again, they aren’t rotating…)
Jennifer and I did the flowers part of finale, and we had the perfect amount of each bit that was represented, and it used the perfect amount of finale music. 
While we were waiting, I asked Annika to show me a few things I didn’t know but am fairly certain will come up in auditions. I obviously don’t have it perfectly, but I have the idea of it, so I can work on it more so that I don’t freeze up if and when it comes up. I want to practice as much as I can so that way I can do the best audition I’ve done, instead of just kind of putsing through it. I want to actually leave an audition and feel good about it. 
There was a day I was in the small studio with Andie on a Tuesday working on doubles. She watched and explained what I needed to work on to help me have proper alignment to get my turns more solid so I can move on to multiples more than just accidentally. There was one turn I did that was supposed to be a double, but it was so bombed I laughed before I even finished bombing it. 
But, then I realized that what was laughable to me now would have been a huge accomplishment to me not too long ago. And that’s what I need to remember; progress is happening. If I keep working hard, progress will keep happening. I can’t let myself get discouraged. I need to remind myself that it takes time, and that I need to keep working hard to see anything happen. 
Mom asked me how long I’m going to keep dancing. Innocent enough question, I guess. And honestly, if she’s not in the ballet world, I really can’t expect her to understand what kind of question that is. That this isn’t just some whim, but a lifestyle. This is part of who I am. It’s in the core of who I am. 
I love ballet. I love dance. I love movement. I love expression. I love doing something to make someone feel something. And seeing the faces of the people today as we danced reminded me of why I really love this; of what inside me begged me to dance. To face my fears and the doubts of those around me. 
So, that’s all. Just some thoughts.

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