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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
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Rest, don’t quit.

Work has really been picking up, and will likely be steady from here until May. It’s really rough on me and my body hasn’t been responding in ways that make it any easier. I’ll spare you details.

Needless to say, I’ve been a little nervous about my classes. They’re all either at or almost at capacity, which if you have ever tried to get 15 3 year olds to focus on anything, you know it can be exhausting. I also seem to be getting new kids nearly every week, which isn’t a bad thing, but can make it more difficult.

It’s all these little things that you never really notice until you’re forced to. Before, you just figure you’ll find a way to handle it and you make lemonade out of lemons. They’re virtually non-issues, rather just a tiny smudge of heightened “stress” solely for the fact that it wasn’t expected and you have to rearrange a bit. Life goes on.

But then you get sick and even these little non-issues become taxing. You take them as they come and try to stay positive. What other choice do you have?

But then you find the absolute joy in the little things as well. Like when your class that was problematic at the beginning of the year starts to maintain focus and actually make progress. Or when the brand new 3 year old that doesn’t speak the same language as you ends up being the best in the class by far. (My personal theory is that she focuses more than the other kids out of necessity. Since we can’t speak the same language, she learns by observation. It’s incredible to watch.) Or when you have the kids tell you how much they love their recital piece already, and how much they love their costume. Or when their personalities just fill you with more joy than you know what to do with.

At the end of the class for my youngers, we do this song called Slippery Fish. It’s essentially a silly song that tells a silly story that has ballet moves attached to it. We used it at my old studio, so my friend and I brought it over to this studio and the kids love it. One of my 6 year olds, in the middle of class says, “Ms. Emilee! Over Christmas” and I thought about stopping her because it didn’t seem to be a ballet related story, but she talked over me and said, “I was at my grandmas house and I said, “Alexa, play Slippery Fish” and she did!”

My heart melted. I asked if she did all the moves with it, and she said she did. This just made me so happy. You don’t realize how much they soak up until you hear little things like this. They’ll give you little glimpses if you look for them, occasionally, and it’s my favorite thing when they do.

I remember one of my 3 year olds saying something absolutely hilarious, but I can’t remember what it was for the life of me. I do know she’s inclined to say and do hilarious things just our of her personality. It brightens my day. She doesn’t even realize she does it.

These things make me so happy, and remind me why I fight to still get to teach. It’s still odd to think that a year ago I was teaching as many classes while also taking 3 classes and having rehearsals twice a week. (All while working full time) and this year I’m in bed by 8:30, having to take a day to do absolutely nothing because even showering is becoming exhausting. And it’s only January.

I’m trying to take it all day by day, and taking the time to notice these little moments that become balm to my soul.

A good adult ballet friend of mine just posted in a Facebook group about her progress and made the comment, “when you get tired, learn to rest, not quit!” Which really helped me. Such a simple concept, but so often all this makes me feel like I’ve been forced to quit, when truth is we don’t know what’s causing me to be sick. We don’t know what the future holds. I could get worse but I could also get better; we won’t know til we get there. So it’s not quitting, I’m taking the time required to rest.

(Thanks for that, Brittany)

This entry was posted in dance.

4 comments on “Rest, don’t quit.

  1. Dork says:

    I admire you for keeping up with as much as you do! It’s definitely okay to rest.
    I nominated you for the Liebster Award to show that I really appreciate your blog! Check it out: https://dorkydancing.com/2018/01/15/its-raining-nominations-oh-my/

    Like

  2. ballet.tos says:

    Hi emilee, I also nominated you for the mystery blogger award. You can find the link here:https://wordpress.com/post/balletmtocom.wordpress.com/1016 Good luck! I love your posts!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you love!! ❤️❤️

      Liked by 1 person

      1. ballet.tos says:

        You are welcome! 😘

        Like

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