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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
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.

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My name is Emilee and I have been dancing since October 2011 when I began just after turning 23. I decided that if I ever wanted to make anything of this silly dream of mine, I better do something about it before I was out of chances.

Terrified, I took that first class at Instep Dance Studios and kept coming back, even when I was terrified or confused or whatever. I wanted this more than I was afraid of it, and I wouldn’t let myself give up. I knew I couldn’t live with that regret. My worst day at dance is still better than my best day not dancing.

I began blogging in 2012 after realizing how much of dance class could be applied to normal life. As my life has evolved, so has this blog. (For more details, please see “The Backstory” page.)

The blog covers my thoughts, feelings, and experiences throughout this ballet life of mine.

Thanks for reading about all my nights at the barre. For commenting such kinda and encouraging words. For taking interest in my story. I hope you find something in this for you.

Instagram: anothernightatthebarreofficial

YouTube: anothernightatthebarreofficial

Facebook: Facebook.com/anothernightatthebarre

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