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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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Home again.

I had planned to attend the class we have offered to us tonight.
My dance clothes are even in my car.
I have set aside time to blog about the inevitable good it will do for me.

But I just can’t bring myself to go.

The funk is strong with this one, and even though I know dance will be good for me, and it’s been a week since I’ve been, I just don’t know that I can bring myself to go today.

I don’t want to have to be “on.” To have to care about how my actions are interpreting to the people around me, and on dance days like this, it is a bit more complex. I never know what I’m gonna get. If people will care and ask questions or if they’ll leave me alone.

And right now, I don’t have any answers. I don’t have any definitions to help me explain what is going on inside.

It’s all I can do to get myself out of bed. To head to work and keep it together. To keep my brain from going crazy trying to make sense of it all, or ignoring it and stuffing it down again.

I don’t have answers. I don’t have solutions. I don’t have much of anything at this point. But I have the opportunity to give myself time just be. To not have to figure it out right away.

I find these times to be the best times of expression for me. I tend to get the most creative, write the best poems, create the best paintings/artwork. They aren’t great, but they’re the best for me. The kind that truly gets out what is haunting me inside.

So I think I’m going to skip dance, head to the closest Starbucks, and just read. Or write. Or whatever.
Just be.

I realized while in Kansas that my instagram has surpassed 200 followers! So if you are one of those 200+, I thank you! I’ve met some of the most incredible people through expanding my blog and making it an instagram account. I’ve been inspired by several people and am pushing myself farther than I ever expected. It’s cool to hear from other people who are dealing with the same things you are, who have been where you are and can lend advice, and even people who tell you that you inspired them. How cool is that? I’m a little ol’ nobody from a tiny town in Texas, yet there’s this community I’m part of that stretches across oceans and continents.
Thank you, my friends, for your support and love and encouragement. I’m a better person for knowing each of you.

This entry was posted in dance.
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