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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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First Nutcracker Rehearsal 2017

I wasn’t sure if I would get to post a blog with this title.

Yet, here I am, albeit very different from years past.

I hadn’t been in the downtown studio since the “great flood of 2017.” It’s known by many other names, most of which I won’t name here. Essentially, there was a really heavy rain back in June that inundated the sewers and flooded downtown in a few different ways. Our studio fell victim, and we ended up having to replace the floors and much of the furniture. Two rooms were spared, though we aren’t sure how. (No costumes were harmed.)

The new floor is incredible. Perfectly sprung and smooth, the creaky floors we used to know are now gone, and the different holes and divets have been removed and replaced.

It made me wish even more that I was able to dance the roles I could have had if my body wasn’t rejecting me, knowing that pirouettes would be perfection on this floor. On the same side of that coin, I am so grateful to be back in the company studio, a place that has begun to feel more like home than I ever expected. Especially since so much of what I know to be familiar has been destroyed or broken beyond repair, having these studios be exactly as I know them to be (or in this case, better, but with the essentials the same) has been good for my soul.

Much is different, though; I’m no longer considered company, many of my friends have graduated and aren’t there, I’m rehearsing with adults, some of whom have been doing this role since I was the age of the youngest party girls. I’m not in program pictures, the costumes actually fit me without alteration because they’re made for adult bodies, rehearsals are shorter and less than what I’ve been used to, dressing rooms will be different.

Yet, I’m still here. I’m still involved. I’m still getting to do something I love so much, in spite of the blows my health has thrown at me. I still get to put on a costume, get on stage, and perform. To say I’m grateful is such an understatement.

I have two party girls in my “family”, both of which are two of my “babies.” It makes me so happy getting to do this role with two of the younger girls that have already stolen a piece of my heart. I’m so excited.

We aren’t allowed to take pictures of rehearsals, but if I could have, I definitely would have gotten a picture from my perspective during the end of the scene when all the party girls dance a part with Clara. The girl that was running Clara that time is one of my assistants, and also has a piece of my heart. I’ve heard her tell me how she used to look up to the older girls, and how now she’s the older girl, and how she wants to be nice to the younger ones since she remembers what it was like. And I saw it. There was this moment where it hit me like a semi-truck loaded down with emotion. These younger girls, watching this beautiful, confident older girl, doing the same moves she was doing, but as different roles, in different shoes. Their eyes alight with the dreams of doing what she’s doing, her memories reflected in theirs as she truly lived in the moment.

And this was just a rehearsal.

I don’t cry, but if I did I would have been a blubbering mess in that moment.

I didn’t get any pictures of my costume, or anything from rehearsal except for the one with the puppy, Riley, that one of the other Party Mom’s brought.

When I walked in to the costume room, he was in his little bag. As soon as he saw me, his tail wagged like it would fly off his little body, and he was so excited he almost couldn’t stand it. At this point, I didn’t know who he belonged to, and I said, “Who’s puppy? I’m gonna pet it before he explodes!” and then when I found his owner and got permission, I picked him up as he licked my face and I melted into a puddle of cuteness.

I thought I saved the picture, but I guess I didn’t 😭

Instead, have a completely irrelevant, shameless plug for my shirts. 

Thank you to those who have placed orders already! This has been such an exciting adventure so far. Y’all make my heart so happy. 

Hopefully I’ll have pictures from rehearsal soon. I don’t believe I have rehearsals this weekend due to program pictures, but I need to look at my schedule before I miss something. That would be bad. 

This entry was posted in dance.
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