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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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Be good people. 

Recently in class, ive noticed something;

The dancers can generally be summed up into two types. 

There’s the dancers that make you feel crappy about yourself, and those that make you feel better about yourself. 

And no I don’t mean “make you feel better about yourself” in the sense of, you think they’re so terrible that they make you feel like you’re at least not that bad. That essentially puts you in the first category. 

What I mean are those people who are so kind and uplifting that you can’t help but believe them when they contradict your negative opinions of yourself. 

Recently I’ve noted both. 

Theres the girl next to you in class, giving off the air that they feel very confident in themselves, whether it’s warranted or not. The girl that pushes the boundaries and rules, seeing how much she can get away with. The girl who gets roles over you and you could be made to believe that she is better than you. 

And maybe she is. But even if that’s true, don’t let it hold you back from pushing forward and doing your best. 

Then there’s the girl next to you in class, silent in her dedication. Notably talented, but always striving to be better. Never letting it get to her head. The girl who would make you nervous to have a part of a dance with, but then you do and she encourages you as an equal, even though you know she’s loads ahead of you. Yet you trust her words telling you that you’re enough. That you look better than you think. 

I took a step back and thought about the person I was. I would hope it’s the latter, but realized that I too can dip into the former. We’re human, this can happen, but that doesn’t give us an excuse or the right to treat people poorly. Selfishness isn’t worth it. 

Mrs Alex is right. I’d rather be a good person than a good dancer, though I will strive to continue to progress in my dance as well. 

If you’re reading this and you’re in my class and worried that the first person might be you, it’s probably not. But let it be a reminder to you to be the best version of yourself. Not just for other people and to please them, but for you. Be kind, it’s truly simple. Work hard, set goals and meet them. Don’t walk all over people to make yourself feel better about yourself. Take the hits, celebrate the victories, do good things. 

This entry was posted in dance.
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