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Emilee

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Hi, it’s been a minute, new blog post. Link in bio.
Gotta get back to Hogwarts Gotta get back to school Gotta get myself to Hogwarts Where everything is magicooooool
Mischief Managed.
I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. #leakycon #leakycon2018
Y’all, check out my friend Baileys announcement!! I’m so excited for her and super pumped to watch this series she’s a part of! #Repost @catchingbreaths with @get_repost ・・・ The concept is simple: follow someone’s journey from surgery to stage. Showing the life of a mucus mutant. Showing the life of a bilingual Deaf family. Showing the life of a dancer and @companythreesixty dancers. It technically hits all the hashtags: #spoonie #deaf #adultballerina #bodypositive #chronicillness. It hopefully connects with many communities and provides another voice in the chorus of those wanting representation in media abound. It is positive: a positive network with a positive focus wanting to counter the negative swarmy troll farm that is most modern media to date. But... what if the concept becomes a reality? What if I show not just the recovery from latest rounds of surgeries... but the pain and swelling and funk between? What if I don’t fulfill some sort of diagnostic paradigm being that I am an Atypical diagnosis (and someone who hopes not to be defined by that anyways where I can)? What if we capture not just the invigorating process of putting together a show with women I ferociously admire and protect... but also, how totally messy dance life can be? What if we showcase a family that’s equal parts Deaf as hearing... yet our variable mix of signing, reading lips, caption and speech isn’t in keeping with what the world wants from us? Choosing to share our story has come with a lot of IFs... but we are braving it none the less. Although I can’t believe our pilot episode premiered TODAY and that I can finally announce the news... fear of judgement subsists. Can perspective, positivity and living an imperfect life as openly as possible actually be of benefit? The verdict is still out... but I’m excited to try. I’m excited to see. And I’m excited to get started.▪️Click Link In Bio To Watch The Pilot Or Go To: onlygood.tv▪️#CatchingBreaths
The builders weren’t out today, so I decided to have one last hoorah in our still empty, hurricane Harvey-Ed house. They’ve finally begun repairs, and I’m super pumped for it to be fixed, but also a bit sad at the loss of the house as we knew it and how it was growing up. Here I’m in our game room, the red wall is my bathroom, and to the right is my old bedroom, where I was the night before the storm came. The bed I slept on had ceiling and insulation fallen on it the next day. Still pretty surreal almost a year out. TL;DR I love my new @sodancausa dance sneakers I got from @cinqdanceessentials ! Super pumped for the new year!

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“Enjoy life; this is not a rehearsal.”

I had known that the five year anniversary of the day I began dancing was coming up, but I couldn’t remember the actual day. I thought it was October, but then I calculated and thought it put it late September. 

Then my Timehop app brought up the picture I have been looking for–the one I took of my feet in ballet shoes on my first day. 


Y’all. 

Like. 

That was it. That was my first position. 

And I remember taking this, and being embarrassed to even take it, even though no one knew it existed. Even though no one would see it. (Well, until now.) 

But I knew that this was something I wanted, and I knew I wasn’t brave enough to take any other type of “beginning” picture. I hoped deep down that I would stick with this and one day be able to have progress. I hoped one day to be so much more than that Nervous twenty-three year old in the footed tights , scared out of her mind to take this first class, to begin again, but more scared of the regret I would feel if I never began again. 

I did feel a bit of reassurance that I had taken a few months of dance in a studio near our small town, but even then we hardly did any ballet. 

It’s amazing how much can happen in five years. Sometimes it feels like nothing, sometimes it feels ive done the impossible; especially given how many trials I’ve faced. 

It hasn’t been easy, but boy has it been worth it. And each time I can step into a dance studio is a breath of fresh air, knowing I at least get this one more chance to do this thing I love. 

I don’t know how long my body will let me continue, but I’m gonna push it to its limit. 

And how appropriate was it that the five year anniversary fell on the annual Bailando Dance Festival that my first teacher puts on at the university here? Surrounded by friends I’ve made over the years of my dancing life, being inspired by new and old faces, be they dancers or teachers, surrounded by some of the people I love most. 

I would be lying if I told you that this week wasn’t difficult. But seeing the performances last night, and some of the dancers essentially baring their soul on that stage, and sitting there just feeling everything they had to give–it was like fresh air in these struggling lungs. 

And my favorite Company that comes, Ad Deum, performed both the nights I was able to watch, and last night did a particularly deep piece that reached all the way down into my soul. They dance with such passion it’s as though it reached down my throat, into my chest, and massaged my heart that somehow forgot to beat. It spoke straight to me, and that I appreciate more than I could ever tell them. I was able to thank a few of the members and tell them what their piece meant but really words weren’t enough. 

If my body didn’t hold me back, and if I had someone to believe in me enough to take me at my beginner level of contemporary, I’d move to Houston and join up with them. Even if just my body wasn’t acting up, I’d take the plunge. They inspire me in ways I can’t express. 


Ironically on today’s time hop is the first time I saw them perform and my life was literally changed. I look forward to seeing them every year. 

Here I am, five years later, still fighting, still trying, still never satisfied. Even when I’ve danced my last, it’ll never be enough. 

But dancing makes me feel alive. It makes me feel like there’s more to this life than just going through the motions. And I know I’m nothing spectacular. I know that I just sort of fade into the background. But that’s okay. I dance for me, not for anyone else. I dance because I still can, and I don’t want to waste another day that I’m still able, because one day I won’t be. And I hope with everything in my being that when I die and when I’m in the presence of God and my body is restored and I don’t have to feel these aches and pains and worry about if it’ll function enough today or how I’ll get through, that I’ll be able to dance like my heart does, I’ll be able to dance like these people I see. That my soul will lay bare and I’ll finally feel free. 

I fight so much more than people could ever see or realize. That’s just how it is, I think for all of us really. But what would my story be without struggle? I honestly don’t know. It sucks, but really it refines me. 

Five years. So much has changed and so much remains the same. 

I’ve gone from a pigeon toed nothing to a company member at a local place here, performing in shows and teaching young dancers. I made my bucket list goal that fueled all this of getting en pointe by 25. I’ve made some of the greatest friends and family anyone could ever ask for. 

I’m so glad I took that first class. I’m so glad I had a stroke of bravery. I’m so glad I fought through when everything seemed impossible. I’m so grateful for the people who helped get me to where I am today. 

Life isn’t perfect, but boy am I grateful to be living it. 

This entry was posted in dance.
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