search instagram arrow-down


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
Old picture, new post Link in bio
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

Recent Posts

Recent Comments

vtgem24 on Oh, hi.
anothernightatthebar… on It comes and goes in wave…
vtgem24 on It comes and goes in wave…
anothernightatthebar… on Kansas City Meet-Up
vtgem24 on Kansas City Meet-Up






Kids are magic.

I’ve been teaching extra classes the last few weeks to cover for a teacher who has been out.

It’s been so much fun, as I’ve gotten to have a class one age group high than I usually teach. The 8-10 year olds are stinking hilarious, and they find my obsession with Harry Potter to be fascinating.

To learn their names, and sort of warm them up to me, I have them say their name, age, and favorite thing about themselves. It’s such a great age to learn so much more about myself through them. Kids this age typically don’t know to be afraid yet. Some are self conscious already, but are usually more trusting to adults they trust or respect. I love hearing how one got four ribbons in her horse jumping competitions, how another loves to read, how ones favorite thing is her family and ballet, how another is allergic to gluten. The things they decide are the things they want you to know about them are truly fascinating.

I’ve had to brainstorm ways to make my classes more challenging, and where I want to take each of the classes. These kids are more advanced than most of the classes I’ve had in years past, which is pretty exciting. It’ll make their recital pieces fun, too. Thankfully, it’s my classes as a whole. Each level seems to be a little higher, even on different days with different kids. I started out making them a bit more complex, but it seems they’re hungry for more.

I’ve started looking at costumes and trying to narrow down songs, but haven’t set anything in stone yet. I do want to try and make them all to the Harry Potter score to some degree. There’s really a lot of options there, given the fact there’s 8 movies, and two more in the Fantastic Beasts franchise. I probably won’t set anything solid until I’m sure of how many dances I have. Sometimes we combine days, but it hasn’t been consistent for my classes the past few years. I am excited for this group of kids.

I’ve had a few rough days here lately. Long days and my body doing scary things, which cause my brain to tell me all sorts of terrible endings. But seeing these kids warms my heart. Little things, like them randomly running up and hugging my leg in the middle of class, the hilarious facial expressions they make in this one part of class, seeing them excited for class, kids crying because they don’t want to leave. (L.O.L.) one dancer who’s sister I teach drew me a picture. She kept adding more to it to prolong having to leave. Then hugged me so many times I lost count.

I hung it on my fridge. It’s a reminder of good things still in the world, even when it seems dark.

Every day is a gift. I hope to never waste a moment.

This entry was posted in dance.
Leave a Reply
Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: