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Emilee

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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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Gotta get back to Hogwarts Gotta get back to school Gotta get myself to Hogwarts Where everything is magicooooool
Mischief Managed.

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Swan Lake Casting

I’m not a swan.
I’m cast, but I’m not anything exciting or impressive.
I have many thoughts and feelings towards this, mostly of disappointment and confusion. But I’m trying to put those to the side for this post. (As “Fight Song” decides to come on my Pandora)
I’ll make the most of it, like I do every time. I am the cover for the swans, along with a few other girls, but there’s no guarantee anything will come of that.
I talked to Mrs. Alex about it after class. I asked her what I could have done better. She said it’s just a really intense show with a bunch of pointe work and they really struggled with casting. That my name was heavily debated and thought over. She said she knows nothing she says can really help.
I just want understanding, ya know?
I thought I had proved myself with Oz, and with Nutcracker this year. I thought my hard work in class was being seen. I thought the fact they asked me to come to VI’s meant they saw me. And she said they did. She said they see how much I’ve improved and how hard I work. I just don’t understand.

But it is what it is. What can we do about it now? Nothing.
Take my roles and do the best possible in them.
I’m struggling personally because I let myself get hopeful. I let myself believe my friends when they said I did well and I had it in the bag. Mrs. Alex even said I auditioned well, that she was impressed. She said she saw my en dedan turn when I did do it.
I just wasn’t enough.
And everyone tells me there’s always next time.
Except I don’t know if there is.
I mean, technically we never know. None of us. But really, I’m not getting any younger. There’s only so many things my body will let me do, and time isn’t kind. I’ll never see Swan Lake again in my dancing days.
Next year I’ll get Lilac and Snow, because it’s the next in line. It’s not a challenge. It’s not anything that will take more effort than is expected, or whatever.
I just don’t understand.

I honestly feel like I’m grieving. The loss of this role and this dream. The realization that I’ll realistically never reach some of the things I strive for, that my heart longs for.
Not everything is attainable, no matter how hard you work and try.
And you have to find a way to be okay with that.

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