dance – Another Night at the Barre

50th Anniversary Gala

As I’m writing this, I’m sitting in the Grand Tier section, row AA (the best row) of Selena Auditorium watching rehearsal for our current show, Dracula. A good chunk of these dancers were at the Country Club last night, where I was also, attending the Corpus Christi Ballet 50th Anniversary Gala, which also celebrated Ms. Munro’s 40th anniversary of being with CCB. I’m, obviously, exhausted so I can’t even begin to imagine how they must feel.

This week has proved long and demanding, with Thursday’s rehearsals lasting late into the night–longer than typical for our spring shows–and Friday’s school show having an early call time. We thankfully didn’t have rehearsals Friday, as the school show acted as a rehearsal since we did the entire show for the school performance, which was a nice break for the girls to have a bit of time off.

Since I’m not in this show, I got to watch the school show performance from the audience. Dracula notoriously doesn’t sell very well in the school shows as it’s a bit darker and most of our attendees are elementary schools. We usually come up on the issue of school standardized testing happening around the same time as our Spring Performances every year, so shows don’t sell as well as Nutcracker regardless, but Dracula has its own extra layers. The show itself is absolutely wonderful story telling, and the dancers this year especially do a great job bringing it to life. Getting to watch from the audience during a performance was a real treat. Particularly, there’s a part where the Wolves come up from the back of the audience, and since the numbers were smaller, they didn’t notice it for longer than usual, and the reaction was absolutely perfect. Hearing the gasps and squeals and, in some instances, screams, was really fun for me. The audience was small, but they were gracious, giving the dancers plenty of reaction to play off. I sat with some of my favorite dance moms, many of whom have daughters I taught when I was still teaching. I don’t often get to see them for longer than answering questions in the office or a passing greeting, making this a really nice reprieve.

I had a few things to do at the studio between school show and the Gala, so it didn’t really make sense for me to drive all the way home, even though I was pretty wiped out at this point. I was grateful to have the ability to just sit during rehearsals, handling things from the auditorium as needed, but not having to climb stairs to dressing rooms and emote on stage, standing on the hard floors, like I usually do. The last few weeks have been particularly trying in my personal life, draining more energy than I’m used to emitting. I noticed I was feeling nauseated by 9pm, and dizzy by 9:30, solely because my body was telling me it was done. A far cry from what it used to be able to do, but that’s no surprise. I got home around midnight, and to bed around 1am, but my body woke up at 6 the next morning regardless.

I figured this would happen, the general anxieties of what goes into a show swirling around my head, trying to remember everything there is to remember, going over lists, all of it circling around and around in ways that don’t truly end until the show is over. I prepare for these things as much is possible, still there will be things you can’t predict or can’t do anything more to help except just take it as it comes and deal with the repercussions.

After school show, I went to lunch with some of my favorite people, then ran a few errands before going over to the studio. My phone was pinging with texts and calls from people about last nights Gala or show tickets or other various things to remember or handle or figure out. (Please appreciate that after I wrote the previous sentence, I had to pause to tell one group they were finished and didn’t have to stay, and then was asked to help rethread elastic in the pant legs of one of our youngest cast members. I was successful. Please hold your applause.) I told myself after I handled all the actual work I had to make myself lay down if I had any hope of surviving the night. After 20 minutes, I gave up the hope of sleep, but still stayed laying down, telling myself that bit of rest was better than nothing. I was nauseous and dizzy (this being 2:30pm) and tried to let myself not think about ballet stuff, but of course that was a hilarious notion. I had plugged my phone in to charge when I pretended to rest, so I grabbed it and had missed texts with people needing various things for the Gala, even just a few hours out. I did have the forethought of picking up ice cream during the errands I had to run before coming to the studio, and I was grateful I had. I sat on my floor, laptop propped up on a pillow, eating ice cream and handling business. An entire mood, really.

I got ready for the Gala at the studio, curling my hair, fully expecting it to fall before I arrived, and somehow managing to zip my dress up myself. It’s the little things, y’all. I was a bit nervous walking into the Gala, as attending an event like this isn’t something I have done in a good long while, the person I was back then being completely different from the person I am now, having to remind myself it is okay that I do not exist in a body now that looks like the body I existed in then. The old, familiar thoughts were ringing loud and clear, but I have the advantage of having been through a lot of therapy these days, and was able to face it all in spite of everything going on in my head. Thankfully, I arrived around the same time as my glorious assistant, Emily James, who walked in with me which gave me a bit more confidence having someone I trust alongside me.

We walked in the door of the Country Club, a place I’d never been, and the dancers who were there in tutus to help seat attendees saw us and almost collectively shouted, “Oh my God, Ms. Emilee!” going on about how much they loved my dress and how pretty I was, etc etc.

Listen. That’s not something I strive to hear from people or hang my hat on or whatever, but–especially in that moment–it was really nice to hear and gave me the extra confidence I needed to endure all the exhaustion and uncertainty of the night. I definitely wasn’t expecting to hear it continuously throughout the event, but it meant a lot, the voices of those I love helping reinforce the positive words I was trying to tell myself and drown out the ugly voices in my head pointing out all the flaws or thinking of opinions certain matriarchs may have if they were there or when I show them pictures, all of this typically more intense when i’m exhausted.

When the tutu-clad girls had changed into their own beautiful dresses for the night, they found me and asked for me to take pictures with them. This always makes me feel so good. So often I have felt I’ve had to really work hard to have a place in the environments I frequented, and most of my life I never quite felt like I found them and if I did it felt like it was just because of how I made the people feel or what I did for them, and not for who I am as a person or for what they also could offer to me in the friendship. Once I started setting boundaries, people began fading into the shadows, some slowly disappearing little by little, some essentially falling off the face of the planet. It felt like nothing was actually as it seemed, and I questioned the authenticity of most everything. Some people from previous seasons in my life have proven to be genuine, making the effort to stay connected even if it’s distantly as we navigate the natural ebbs and flows of life. Some of the girls I used to dance with will visit, making a point to come and see me and catch me up on their lives. I cherish these. Much like the dancers we have now that make sure we get pictures together, hyping me up and making me feel so loved–I am grateful.

One of the girls that was dancing a few levels above me when I first came to Munro was at the Gala last night. She graduated the year that ended up being my last year dancing with the company, and I haven’t seen her since (though her mom is one of my absolute favorite board members). It was so great seeing her, hearing about her life, catching her up on mine, and just spending time with her. A genuine soul, I got to tell her how its the fault of her and her mother that I’m at Munro as a twist of fate put the two of them at the same park I was in with another dancer for a photo shoot years ago, and we struck up a conversation where I told them my studio was closing and her mother told me about the great adult ballet classes at Munro. And here we are, 12 or so years later. Alex is just as kind now as she was when I first arrived on the scene, one of the girls that accepted me into the fold and was considerate of the new girl in town even though most people don’t know what to make of me. A true testament to the fact that what you do in your life, even if it seems small and unassuming, makes a difference in ways you may never even imagine.

Later on in the night, some of the younger-older girls approached me, asking me to come dance with them on the dance floor. There were about six of them in total and even though I am the epitome of an introvert with these things, I couldn’t resist. These girls are basically my nieces, some of them my former students or party girls or both, and having them requesting me to join them in what is arguably a right of passage for girls their age really fills my heart to feel chosen and know that these girls love me as much as I love them.

There was a moment where they were showing the mini documentary that was created in honor of Ms Munro (absolutely wonderfully done) where I looked around and took it all in. I thought about all the things I’ve been through and everything that has brought me to this moment. I thought about how lucky I am to be a part of this Company, surrounded by these people, and get to call this place a home. Ballet has been a big part of shaping me into the human I am, and this Company has played a huge role in that.

At this point of writing, I’m in the green room during our evening performance, various dancers coming and going with costume repairs or moral support needed, and I am more than happy to be there for these kids. Even now, some of my favorite people are lacing up costumes, one of them making sure I’m not working and when I explain about the blog and another asks if I’ll dance in other shows and I explain briefly about my health limitations and she says how she’s so glad that I’m here even still which really meant a lot to me. Now another group of my nuggets are here as it’s intermission and being chosen by so many loves makes me feel like maybe I’m doing something right in life.

On that note, I’m going to end this gushy post of sappiness so that I can add pictures and pay attention to my loves.

This is the life ❤

Nutcracker 2024

I feel like writing this post is something for which I have all and none of the words.

I was nervous going into this season. Last season held so many changes and differences that really made it difficult to endure. I was afraid that was the new norm and that Nutcracker would no longer be something I actually enjoyed, but rather something to which I was obligated. The thought of this broke my heart, and I started the season having to put my dog–my best friend–down on audition day. It was already not looking like it was going to be the favorite season of my life.

Now here we are at the end of it. Final bows have been taken, costumes have been hung, props put back into storage. Chapters have been written and signed off in the books of personal history, and here I am, bursting with gratitude.

The difficulty and struggle is not the new norm; it’s simply a blip on the radar of my experiences, something I endured and lived to tell the tale. This year felt redemptive. Of course, it wasn’t perfect, no experience ever is. Honestly, I think if it was, I wouldn’t value it as much. Something about a little struggle makes you really take inventory about how much something means to you. But this year is definitely one I treasure. I know I’m not the only one who feels a bit of redemption, many of the dancers have overcome their own personal challenges for which this year has brought them full circle as well.

Over the first weekend, we had CCB’s very first Clara and Fritz as our Mother Gingers. Mrs. Lori, my first ballet teacher when I came over to Munro, was that first Clara. I haven’t seen her since I took her class ten years ago and was a little worried she wouldn’t remember me. So much can happen in ten years, and she only knew me for that one year of it, leaving me uncertain. I banked on the fact that I look the exact same and got bold enough to say hi when she was talking to Ms. Munro and Mrs. Alex, needing to mention something to Mrs. Alex anyway. When she finished whatever story she was telling and noticed me standing there, she said, “Oh, my glittering girl!” and opened her arms wide to me. I melted like a little kid seeing her favorite teacher; so much of what I learned in her class are still things I apply when I teach students. She was the first teacher to really see me, and the first to point out my hips weren’t square. It was also that year I learned about my leg length discrepancy and the two curves in my spine and started using a shoe lift. Getting to see her backstage, practicing for Mother Ginger, deciding what character she would bring to the role and making sure everything was perfect brought a smile to my face. A professional, through and through.

Party Scene was so much fun. I had all new party boys for the first time this year, as my beloved Michael aged out of the role, which brings in different elements. Having an entirely new set of kids can be a challenge, but in this case it was so much fun. We laughed, made up little jokes throughout the scene, each kid bringing their own personality into it. It never once felt boring or redundant. At one point when John and I are dancing, I said, “This year is so much fun,” and he looked at me and replied, “I know you mean that, because you don’t always say that.” And he’s right. Of course there’s bits I enjoy about every year, and I love my party kids so much, but some years the joy comes more easily, and this was one of those years. From doing the Macarena during the interlude music, to joking that the doll box smoke was Joshua farting, to “this cake doesn’t have nuts”, to Aubrey actually falling asleep in the scene where they’re supposed to pretend, to learning the new kids slang–it’s all been so wonderful.

This is my tenth season with the Corpus Christi Ballet, and I truly believe that it was the best season we’ve had since I’ve been here. Everyone was on their A game, working really hard and dedicating their all to make the show beautiful. It fills my heart with pride to see these dancers rise in their potential. The Clara’s, of course, but also the other roles as well. Many, many of the dancers really seemed to come into their own between last year and this year and it’s excited to watch and speculate where they may go from here. Having been here this many years now, I’ve gotten to see the young ones grow up to be the older ones. Speculations at the beginning have been realized, and getting to see that development is beautiful. There does need to be special compliments paid to the Clara’s, though. All four of those girls really worked their tails off, giving performances that were utter delights to watch each night, supporting and helping each other, and fully embodying the joy of the character. It was like seeing each of their little kid versions living their best lives out there on stage–I’m getting goosebumps just remembering it!

My second season with CCB, I was Rat Queen. Three of my mice are still dancing, two of whom are Seniors this year. I’ve managed to actually let my cold, dead heart thaw a few times the last couple weeks, and one of them was in watching Kaitlyn and Paige dance in Dew Drop (in a trio with Magen), knowing that these nuggets that have been here with me nearly my entire time here are now not only the incredibly talented dancers they are, but are such wonderful people to boot. They are kind and considerate, funny and creative, and positive influences on the younger dancers who watch them with eyes full of wonder. That’s the beautiful thing about the current state of the studio; the older dancers have a grasp of their influence and use their “powers” for good. Seeing them interact with the younger dancers, knowing what it means to them and knowing they know it too, is something that warms my heart.

My absolute favorite thing is the one rehearsal when we don’t have Cherubs, Angels, or Cooks, so the Company girls have started filling in while the music plays so Drosselmeyer and Clara have someone to play off of. It’s hilarious watching them in their various costumes, and adorable now remembering how some of these girls were once these very roles not so long ago. (also hilarious seeing which ones boss the others around on where they’re supposed to be at different parts in the scene.)

I also loved getting to see some of my friends from when I was dancing who came back to visit and/or watch for the 50th anniversary. Moving on is a part of life, but it means so much when they’re able to come back, especially when they take a moment to say hello. I still tell stories of memories we made during our years, and try to keep up on social media, but I’ve become more removed from that in recent days which makes it more difficult to keep up. Just thinking of them makes me so happy.

I can’t tell you how much it meant to me this past weekend to be standing around during party scene, and to have Kaitlyn J, Paige, Alenka, McKenna, and whoever else was there call me over because they wanted pictures with me. Usually I jump in to theirs, or make them take pictures with me (they have yet to protest), but this time they asked me and suddenly I felt way cooler than I ever have any business feeling. These girls we have truly are such wonderful people. Not only the ones I’ve mentioned, either. They’re supportive and kind and helpful and just delights to be around. One of my favorite parts of any show was hearing them cheer for each other, supporting their friends in whatever role they happened to have, giving encouragement, holding each other up. So often people get caught up in competition with each other, but these girls are girls girls. I’m so proud of them.

I teared up at different points every single night, but on the drive in to the last show, one lone, dramatic tear managed to escape my eye at the thought of how special this cast and this experience really is. I have more stories than I could ever truly tell, but each of them have a home in my heart. My life is a pretty dark place on the regular, and it’s easy for me to feel rather consumed by it. But as I told my therapist, “My life is dark, but these kids are the light.” Seeing the wide eyed tiny dancers, hearts full of dreams; the slightly older dancers whose eyes are still wide yet are starting to come into their own, mapping out the stories of their lives; the older dancers whose dreams have now been realized, soaking up every moment of this experience that has been so much of their lives all these years, it’s all enough to melt even the coldest of hearts. I’m so proud of them, of who they’ve grown and are growing to be. I’ve loved getting to know their parents and families and having the privilege of being even the smallest of parts in their stories. Seeing them feel so fulfilled is in turn so extremely fulfilling.

And the greatest gift I could have been given this year is the hope with which I’m left.
This, the kindness and joy, is the norm. This is what I have to look forward to in future seasons. This is why I keep coming back. This is what fills my heart and makes my life feel like it has a greater purpose.

This is the light in my darkness. I’m not foolish enough to think that I’ll always have it, especially since I almost lost it once already, but I’m grateful for every moment and memory that I do have it, and for every person I get to meet along the way.

Emilee and the Davettes

i’ve been meaning to post an update here for a bit, but have been a smidge nervous about it. Which, is ridiculous, I know.

I guess with most of my experience coming from beginning ballet, where my heart was in it but I had to work very hard for any single bit of progress and fight to keep it, coming into violin has been one where I apparently have natural ability.

And, putting it bluntly, that feels fake.

Surely I really don’t and we just haven’t exposed how terrible I actually am, right?

It feels as though writing too many blog posts about how wonderful this experience is and the progress I’m making, and all the lovely compliments my teacher gives me (hi, David!) will somehow jinx me and i’ll find out I was a fraud all along.

Yet, here I am, lesson…five? I think? maybe six. And i’m learning vibrato, successfully achieved it, and each time David brings me something to challenge me, I somehow rise to it and give a decent effort to it.

I keep expecting me to hit a point where I have to remind myself why I want this, that I actually love it, and that all the hard work will eventually pay off. With ballet, that was basically immediate. I struggled so much, went home and found tutors and any scrap of instruction online that could be found and muddled my way through, supported by the encouragement of my teacher and peers and sheer stubborn determination. I was never great. I would say I was mediocre, at best, but my heart was in it. And when that was taken from me with all my health stuff, the loss had an added layer since it was something I fought so hard for.

Now, i’m beginning, again, something i’d always wanted to try from childhood. The lesson started with David calling me…a word neither of us could remember by the end of the lesson. He’s going to try and look it up—adept? Accomplished? an a word basically calling me a natural. (the word was adept!) Instinct is that there’s no way he’s saying these things about me, but then when he explained what this old book he dug up told him to do in regards to students like me, it made complete sense, and by the end of the lesson he was telling me how he can see such a difference just between last lesson to this one.

I told him how I had access to my friend, Angel’s, piano, and how finding the notes on there helped me translate it to violin. I’ve never had a piano lesson. my friends took piano growing up and showed me some basics like where C is, otherwise I used what David had shown me with violin to figure out where the notes are and help me process the progression for the song we’re working on. Then, I noticed the first note sounded like the first note from Hedwig’s Theme, so I picked it out as best I could by ear, getting all but the last two notes or so of the first phrase. Apparently that’s not normal.

My dad came by the studio today to help me figure out how to get our office phone moved over since we switched which room my office is in, and after I persuaded him to pick up the guitar and play what I was learning. He obliged, and David watched as dad picked out the notes by ear of what I was playing to find it and play with me. He said, “I see where you get it from!” to which my dad quickly said, “nah, she gets it from her grandmother, my mother”. so I guess imposter syndrome runs in the family as well, haha!

it was really special having my dad play with me, even for such a small amount of time. He’s been supportive with me learning violin, even if he may have had his doubts not necessarily in me but knowing how difficult the instrument is and hoping I wouldn’t be disappointed. I think it’s a fair reaction, and one i’ve been met with from many people when I told them I was going to start learning. My dad has been supportive of my ballet, as well, coming to any show even though it’s not something he has any sort of interest in beyond the fact i’m interested in it. I really appreciate it.

I’m excited to keep practicing on the tasks David has given me. It’s most fun when we’re working together, especially because he can call me out in real time on the small things i’m not doing properly that are messing me up, so i’m able to fix them right away. I have yet to leave a violin lesson where I felt anything but on top of the world. I’m so glad I was brave enough to begin this adventure, and I can’t wait to see where it takes me.

David and I joked about getting my nephew to play cello and my sister piano so we could form a band, which he suggested we name Emilee and the Davettes.

Perfection!

stay tuned for an update if David and I remember the word.

Dad and me, while he and David were figuring out the notes on guitar.

Learning to Read (Music)

I was a bit nervous going into this week’s lesson. As I was practicing at home, the “dying cat” was let out of the bag and the sounds I was making weren’t my favorite. I still worked on it, though I wasn’t sure which notes were in the scale that I was meant to be aiming for. I knew the practice was good for my hands, building the muscle and getting used to the motions necessary for violin.

However, when my violin instructor showed up, he had these red things around his neck, and things in his pocket resembling painters sticks.

“We’re going to teach you how to read music today.”

When I tell you I was thrilled, i’m not exaggerating. I had looked ahead in my violin book and realized I was lacking in that area. This book can tell me this is Twinkle Twinkle Little Star all day long, but I couldn’t tell you how it was that song. I was also nervous to show him my dying cat skills I had seemed to develop in the last week, but knew I needed to come clean if I wanted to improve.

The red things around his neck were specialized felt used for tuning pianos. He set them out like a giant Staff. He taught me how to properly draw a treble clef, and used golf balls to teach me how to read music.

Truly, it was genius. I’m completely a visual learner, so having these little cues to guide me proved vital. I have a mathematical brain but struggled with math growing up. I could get the answers, but couldn’t tell you how I did it, because I didn’t know, and then would doubt myself or think too hard about it and mess it up. I was afraid this would happen in music as well, but when he said, “i’m going to speak to you like I do my seven year olds” and put a golf ball where the D note would be and said “this is a dog named Daryl”, I knew I would be okay.

We worked together, placing golf balls and writing out the notes on paper as well, helping me to understand note placement and effectively how to read music. I’m so excited to have the first steps of this skill and to continue to practice with it!

Once that was accomplished, we got out my violin. I confessed the dying cat had found me, and we figured out it was in my placement and also that I hold tension in my hands. Anyone who knows me will not be surprised I hold tension, as I am a tense person. He showed me the scales on the violin and I practiced a little bit, all the pieces starting to click into place.

I just finished practicing with the scales on my own and was beyond thrilled to realize I was finding the correct note first time on my own, and getting the hang of how to adjust to find it when I was a little off. The dying cat seems to be out on an adventure elsewhere, and i’m not mad about it.

I’m so happy to be learning this instrument. My heart is swelling in happiness, making this childhood dream come true. I know i’ll get frustrated and things will be hard and this will take a lot of work, but taking these first steps fill me with such unspeakable joy. These moments are few and far between these days, and i’m grateful to find any moment of it I can.

Excited to see what next week brings!

The first violin lesson.

Today was my very first violin lesson

I’d been tempted before to watch youtube videos about learning violin, or other such introductions, but always felt a little funny doing that. I felt like I needed something more hands on—needed someone to teach me in person and tell me if i’m doing something wrong rather than guess. I felt the same about ballet when I began. I could have figured out stuff on my own, but I didn’t want bad habits. I wanted to be taught proper from the start; same with violin.

I got permission to use the studio space, since David, my teacher, usually does private lessons in the homes of his students or rents studio space from a local music shop, and I live out in the sticks. It was a bit surreal, and i’d say encouraging, to be starting this thing in the building where the other thing I once began lead me. It was comforting to be surrounded by tutus and pointe shoes, putting rosin onto a bow instead of a shoe.

David walked me through the very beginner basics of the instrument. He showed me the bow, walked me through all the different parts, and gave me homework to memorize the names of all the different parts. He did the same for the violin itself, explaining the subtle differences between a violin and a viola, giving little tips here and there. He showed me how to properly store my bow, as well as how to tighten it to play. He then showed me how to apply rosin to the bow strings, and then how to hold the bow. I learned how to tune the violin, how to properly place the violin, how to hold my hands on both the violin and bow—all the fundamentals.

I was eating up every second of it, finding all of it extremely fascinating. I looked at how he described how to hold his thumb for this, how to set his pinkie for that. He was very good at breaking it down to the finest detail, which is exactly my cup of tea.

The first thing he had me do myself was to scrape up the new rosin. It has a bit of film on it when it’s brand new, and to get it to apply properly, you want to scruff it up a bit. He showed me, then handed it over for me to do. No sooner he did, he looks over and says, “oh, you’re doing really well with that”, a little surprised at how quickly and efficiently I was doing it, asking me to show him how I was holding the scissors to do it that way. I laughed a bit.

When he showed me how to tighten my bow for playing and loosen it for storage, he had me do it myself without help or suggestions. I got it right first try. I can’t lie, it felt good to impress him on something brand new to me.

Next came holding the bow. He told me how he explains it to his kids as your hand being a cajun chicken (hilarious) and where to place the fingers, starting with the thumb. I placed my thumb and he said, “oh. You got that right first try. Like, that’s perfect, okay, keep going.” and I placed the rest of my fingers to which he said, “perfect” and then we carried on.

Next he walked me through the optical illusion of the angle of the violin in relation to your body. He explained that the violin needs to tip “like the Titanic” which i’ll for sure never forget. He showed how to place my left hand, and how to place my violin and my chin in relation to the violin. He handed it to me to try, telling me not to have too much tension in my left hand (i’m super good at being tense, yall), and then said “now if you can let go and the violin stays, you know you’ve done it right, but it’s tricky and no one gets it first try. I placed the violin, and let go.

It stayed. His jaw dropped a little.

At this point, i’m thinking, “surely these things aren’t that difficult, right? Surely he’s just being kind. Surely, if someone pays attention, they can get all this first try.”

We carry on. he shows me the wrist movement needed in the right hand, guides me through a few exercises to work on for the movement, and is shocked at how naturally my wrist moves in the way it’s supposed to. I’d like to thank Ehlers Danlos Syndrome for this, as the hyper mobility definitely comes in handy for my wrist dexterity.

Then he says, “well, want to learn your first song? This is where the dying cats comes in, so don’t get discouraged if it sounds a bit off at first. I’m just giving this to you to see if I can stump you since I haven’t so far.” He shows me how to hold my left hand, which apparently its natural shape is exactly where it needs to be for this sort of movement.

The first song is simple. It just had the strings open, and you basically attempt to draw the bow across one string at a time in a syncopated movement. bum-bum-bum-bum-buuum-buuum. He shows me, then hands me back the violin and I try it out with the A string.

bum-bum-bum-bum-buuum-buuum.

He doesn’t say anything, and for a moment i’m worried I completely messed it up and he’s trying to figure out how to nicely correct my mistake because it’s probably a really weird way of messing things up. That’s what usually happens. I’m really good at doing things wrong in ways that stump instructors (and typically it’s due to thinking backwards when processing information).

When David does speak, he says, “wow, okay, so, that was great. Um, I need to find a way to stump you. Okay, I’m gonna go get my guitar out of the guitar. feel free to try that with all the strings while i’m gone.”

So, I do. I do the D string, then G, then try the E. Then I go back to A, trying to get the syncopation correct. When he walks back in he says, “I thought I was listening to a recording of the violin, listening to that.”

At this point, it feels super fake. Surely everyone, at least adults, can take to it like this. Right? Although, anyone who knows about violin that i’ve told i’m going to learn violin has told me it’s one of the hardest instruments to learn. Even the music degree guy at the shop told me he had quite a bit of time in the dying cat phase. Where are the cats?

David comes back in, and he sits with his guitar and plays while I play each string. then has me go out of order, picking whatever string I want without telling him, and holding out the last note for a 4 count and making it last to the end of the bow. I do that. Then he shows me some finger placements for the string. he sort of says which note is which, but walks me through it. “Surely this will stump you and if it doesn’t I quit. I’ll throw my hands up and just be shocked.”

I try it, and the first time he cues me a bit to which way I need to adjust my finger placement to get the note exactly correct. Lots of “a smidge, there. perfect”’s were said. He had me do it again, this time the only cue being the lead in with the guitar, to see if I could find it on my own. I got three of the four right, and the fourth one I knew it wasn’t right but just need to work on which way to adjust it to fix it. (That darn pinkie is difficult to reach sometimes!)

Overall, he was delighted. He told me to work on that movement so I can do each string, without pausing, and faster by next week.

To current Emilee, that seems like a pipe dream. But I feel with practice, I might actually be able to do okay.

David said he’d never done a two hour lesson with someone. He’ll go over, but never this long, but he kept wanting to see what else I could do. He said, “this is the equivalent of having a 6’6” person walk in the first day of basketball practice”, and at one point asked if someone was playing a prank on him. “There’s no way you’ve never held a bow before”.

I’ve never been a natural at something before. everything i’ve done has taken hard work—not just to learn whatever it was, but to prove I belonged there. I’ve gone my whole life having to work so much harder just to be mediocre when everyone else was good at the off. The only exception perhaps being theater at my private school. That was a very tiny school, I often got the leads in Christmas plays, and also I had all the confidence of a person who didn’t yet know what it meant to not be confident in something.

It almost feels fake. Only at that last bit did I start to show a smidge of struggle and by that point my arms were tired and I was taking in so much new information, the fundamentals were tweaking a bit. I just haven’t had the time and practice to get the muscle memory. He even asked if I wanted to learn more difficult things yet but I told him I wanted to work on the simpler first so I can get the motion down first and be confident in what i’m doing.

I’m over the moon.

My right shoulder had a lot of opinions about what I was doing, so that’s something i’m going to have to watch. It hasn’t bothered me too much in recent days, which is nice, but this will be a lot of aggravation on it so I want to be as wise with it as possible.

I want nothing more than to practice right now, but I don’t want to over do it first day. I was already pretty run down going into today, then a two hour lesson learning a new thing —it’s a toll on my body. But i’m so thrilled, and look forward to picking up Beulah tomorrow and seeing what I can manage on my own, and how much i’m able to work up to for next week.

Stay tuned!

Cat to Canary

When I was a kid, i’d always wanted to learn ballet and earn pointe shoes. I was taken out of ballet class two years before I could get my pointe shoes, and thus at 23 decided it was now or never. I began classes with the goal of earning pointe shoes within two years, so by my 25th birthday. One week before, I got my permission slip.

My other childhood dream was to learn violin. I’m not entirely sure what about the violin drew me to it, but I do enjoy listening to stringed instruments and asked my parents if I could take lessons. Our neighbor was notorious for playing anything with a string, yet the lessons never happened.

At 23, when I was living on my own, making my own decisions with my life, I considered my two unfulfilled dreams. I decided to go with attempting ballet first, made a facebook post (el oh el) asking if anyone knew somewhere that taught adult beginners, and was given the name of Jilissa Cotten and her studio, Instep Dance Studios. If you’ve been around, you know the story.

At 35, i’m glad I went with ballet first, especially considering i’m no longer physically able to dance like before. I was given so many opportunities through ballet and in the dance world that little Emilee never even would have dared to dream, and had I waited I may never have been able to accomplish those.

But now, at 35, I have found someone who will teach a completely beginner adult violin.

Friends, today I bought my first violin.

I’ve had it in the back of my mind for a while, and even recently began telling my dream to some of the dance moms at the studios. Many of them homeschool and told me that the people who taught their kids also taught adults as many of the moms joined in their kids music classes. Still, I struggled to find someone who could teach me. That is, until I was at work at the courthouse one day.

There’s an office on the same floor as mine that has a lovely lady working in the office, Sylvia. I popped by one day to say hello and we got to talking and catching up when somehow violin was mentioned and she said her husband used to be a music professor. She also mentioned he teaches violin private lessons. I asked if he taught completely new beginners and she said, “all the time” and told me of a new navy pilot student he took on two years ago that’s thriving with the instrument now.

My eyes got as big as saucers as I realized, this was it. This was the opportunity i’d been hoping for. This was my chance. I told her i’d come back by after Swan Lake and talk to her again and that moment came last week. I got David’s number and gave him a rang on Tuesday, and starting this upcoming Wednesday, i’ll be learning the violin.

Today, I went to South Texas Music Mart, per David’s suggestion, and got my very first violin. I have yet to name her, but she’s beautiful and it still doesn’t quite feel real that she’s mine and this is all actually happening.

As I got ready to leave the house, I found myself incredibly nervous about going to buy the violin. I have no reason to be, of course, but new things tend to scare me. As I sat on the bed trying to hype myself up, going over in my head what David told me to get and ask for, I reminded myself of how much I wanted this. I also felt nervous calling David, but as soon as he answered I felt completely at ease, he just as excited as I am. “If I could do that”, I told myself, “I can buy this violin. I want this more than i’m afraid of it”.

I also reminded myself of that day back in 2011, when I was so nervous to email Instep Dance Studios about classes. I remember the reply I got from Leslie, and going in that first day, scared as scared could be, but doing it anyway. I wanted that more than I was afraid of it, too.

The person who helped me (I don’t know his name, but do know he has a sister named Emilee) was extremely kind and made me feel at ease about everything. He was honest and direct with the options, not pressuring me into buying something more expensive just for funsies. The other person working told me his wife is 34 and just got her first violin as well. He said his advice, as he had to learn violin for his degree, is to push down hard enough with the bow, play closer to the top, and to not be afraid of sounding like a dying cat at first. It’s part of the process. I replied with, “I guess you have to sound like a dying cat before you can sound like a canary”.

And you do. Beginning is so hard. Starting something and daring to not be good at it is difficult, especially when we’re older. I feel we’re expected to know what we’re doing with age, unlike childhood where people make room for mistakes as you’re learning literally everything in life for the first time. (Though some could due to remember this about children more than they do). We have to give ourselves permission to be beginners; to make mistakes, to play around, to figure things out, to ask questions when we don’t know the answer, to not be a natural at things.

I’m extremely excited today, the day I bought my first violin, but i’m sure there will be days when I want to throw it. Those days I have to remember how ballet was hard too, and the moments I panicked in corners because I didn’t understand, but that asking for help and continuing will get you out of those corners. You have to be brave enough to begin, and then remember that learning is downs as well as ups. The down days remind you why you want to be there and make the up days that much sweeter.

So, here’s to new beginnings. Here’s to childhood dreams being realized. Here’s to daring to try something new and be bad at it until you’re okay at it, and then be that until you’re good at it. Here’s to the hope of one day being great.

Here’s to sounding like a dying cat, so we can one day sound like a canary.

Swan Lake 2.0

Had you asked me on Wednesday if I was excited about Swan Lake, I would have said no.

I would have been thinking how i’m rethinking if I should have agreed to be a part at all, if I should have told my family to come, uncertain if I would regret any and everything that doesn’t involve behind the scenes stuff.

I love being on stage, I love being part of productions, I miss all of this so much. But with Swan Lake, there was so much riding on it. We did this show 8 years ago—I was a swan cover, an “ugly duckling” as we called ourselves—and I had high hopes of making this show the redemption arc I never expected.

Here we are, Swan Lake 2024 officially behind us, i’m laying in my bed with my feet up and I can officially said, it was everything I dared to hope it could be.

I definitely didn’t feel confident going into theater week. I still was so unsure of what I was doing, which made me anxious. I had yet to do it correctly and knew the Prince would be here and he probably would be relying on me for guidance on the acting bits. How could I teach him something I didn’t know myself?

Plus, there was a smidge of anxiety for a few things office-wise that I couldn’t predict in how they would go. Ads make me so nervous, but thankfully I haven’t heard of any being incorrect or missing. (I haven’t checked the emails, but still.) i’m hoping each show that goes well, the anxiety will lessen a little and i’ll feel more confident than afraid.

We rehearsed Thursday for the school show, which is a shortened version—Acts 3 & 4. Act 3 was the one I was most nervous about coming out of studio rehearsals since I couldn’t seem to get the faint correct. Thankfully, having The Prince there seemed to do the trick. I messed up one bit, but we were able to figure it out and once I fixed it, the school show went off without a hitch. Friday I was daring to start to feel a smidge of confidence. After the school show, I went out to find a school that had a backstage tour and got caught by a bunch of kids filing out of the auditorium. I guess i’m so used to being a party mom where the kids hardly register you even existed on stage, so when they all were absolutely enamored by my presence, my cold dead heart started to melt. they all wanted hugs, high fives, and pictures. They told me I did great, told me my costume was pretty, that I looked beautiful. I allowed myself to listen to and accept these compliments instead of listening to the doubt that’s been plaguing my thoughts for weeks. (my therapist would be proud. shout out, Dr Barnes!) Kids are honest—they wouldn’t say those words, have those reactions, if they didn’t mean it. I chose to believe them and dare to hope.

Saturday I was nervous because my family was coming. my parents have never seen me as party mom, i’ve never asked them to come, but I asked them for this since it was a substantial acting part. I wanted to do it justice, but I was still nervous I would forget something or mess up the timing. I kept a cheat sheet on me that had notes for both of the acts I was in so I could reference before I went on stage.

By today, the reference sheet was more a superstition than a necessity. John (the prince) and I had it down and both felt confident, and I was able to visualize everything I was supposed to do in my head without referencing the cheat sheet. Because of that, I was able to really get into it and allow myself to be confident in what I was doing. As the rehearsals carried on, I recognized the corrections I was getting sounded like they were due to a lack of confidence. I see it in dancers I work with—they have the skills, and what they do is good enough, but if they could just have that bit of confidence in themselves and their training, it would take it to the next level. I decided to take my own advice.

My brain is still a bit mush, so all of this is way out of order, but i’m going to reference some of the little moments I want to remember; the little things that really stuck with me and helped make this whole show and experience one worth remembering.

First off, on Saturday I was talking with Mrs Alex and Ms Munro about some semi-serious issue we were trying to resolve. As I went to text the person who was being the voice box for us with it, I noticed a text from my friend Kelly. it said, “SOGNED CDS LIMIT 1 PER”.

Mid conversation, I instantly went to Taylor Swift’s website and clicked the merch store. Kelly, as well as another friend (also named Kelly), was keeping an eye out for signed stuff and offered to get me one since she knew my weekend would be extremely busy. the fact she text me, and I happened to see it right away, wasn’t on stage, wasn’t consoling a dancer or doing something business-y that couldn’t be interrupted was a stroke of luck. I got it in my cart, fought the captcha, and managed to secure the signed cd. Ms Munro asked if I sent the text and I said, “one second, taylor swift is releasing signed cds” and they just said, “okay!” and waited. I love where I work, lemme tell ya. I got the goods, text the person I needed to text, and all was right in the world.

Also, that morning I managed to get my fake eyelashes on perfectly first try. this never happens! it felt like a good omen of sorts. Follow that up with scoring the signed stuff—I was really starting to feel good.

Saturday’s rehearsal went well and seemed to iron out all the wrinkles in everything. I didn’t give the flowers too early, we filled all of our time well, everything seemed to be falling into place. Mix that with the high I was riding from school show when I went off stage after act 3 and Ms Munro said, “that was great!” I about fainted for real. Aloria heard it, so I know it wasn’t a figment of my imagination, and I told her to put it on my tombstone. Also, I found it super stinking cute that when Ms Munro gave me a correction at rehearsals, she wouldn’t call out my role, she’d say, “Queenie”. I would love for this to stick.

Throughout all of this, the sweet Villagers really made it for me. There’s about 60 of them in total, ranging in age from 8-14 years old. I absolutely loved that they would come up to me backstage, curtsy, and say something like, “your majesty” while giggling. It absolutely made me feel way more at ease about it all having them all there, believing in me and cheering me on. Kids whose names i’m not even sure of (and I try really hard to know all their names) would come up and hug me every time they saw me. It felt so good to have all of that. Plus, when I came on stage, it translated and made it super fun to interact with them all as I entered and exited stage. This is the next generation. This is the next group I get to watch grow up, and i’m excited for it.

Today’s show, especially, we were all backstage before curtain call taking pictures with each other. It was so sweet to see the girls getting pictures together, seeing the groups ebb and flow and people be included. It made me feel way cooler than I have any right to feel when they’d ask me to be in pictures with them. I’ve watched these girls grow up and am so proud of them; to have them want me in their memories too? I’m not worthy!

They’ve also been some of my biggest supporters, which has been so rewarding. Having them believe in me helped me to believe in myself, which is a gift.

This year was also a big year for graduating dancers. One of our biggest groups to date are either graduating or in college but not coming back for one (valid) reason or another. I tried not to think too much about it—denial, I guess—but at the end of the show today, it hit.

Some of these girls have been dancing in shows since my first one ten years ago. i’ve watched them grow up from tiny little villagers themselves, now to soloists, constant figures in my memories. Some of them were my party girls, some were my assistants when I taught classes, even. Most of my dance memories include them to some degree. It’s an odd thing, having come into dance as an adult and realizing something that I knew was true but hits different this year—this is these dancer’s childhoods. I’ve been here, a spectator, watching them learn and grow and become such wonderful people—what a privilege! It’s not the first group of girls i’ve danced with that have graduated, but it feels different now. These aren’t just my “peers”, kids I dance alongside. These kids feel like my nieces, like family, constants, and now they’re all going off in different directions to figure out who they are and what life has to offer them. To say i’m proud of them truly is an understatement. They have been delights to have every week, and seeing how much they’ve grown as people as well as dancers…it’s been my honor. (and yall better come see me when you’re in town or else i’ll riot. and i’m the queen. so like. what I say goes.)

(but for real, I love yall to bits and am so proud of each of you.)

My favorite part of being the Queen was getting to sit on the throne the entire act 3. I swear, i’m spoiled now; having the best seat in the house at the front of the stage, watching my friends dance so well, making eye contact, whispering encouraging words when I could, getting to give my honest facial reactions because it’s part of being a character actor, making eye contact occasionally—I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt. I only wish I could have taken pictures while sitting there. The moments I got to witness are precious to me. So many triumphs.

While sitting there, Von Rothbart would be next to me at times. we would make casual, in character conversation, the funniest of which is a joke none of us can remember. I made some off handed remark that made James laugh so hard, but he had to stay in character with a serious straight face, which of course made it funnier. We had such a good time, Sean and I joking about “trade relations” or whatever other jokes we could make throughout. it was so much fun.

I also appreciated John Mingle, our prince. He is such a professional which made everything go so smoothly this weekend. People would compliment me on my acting, but honestly I was able to do what did because he gave me so much to work with. It was easy for me to pretend my son was going through everything the prince goes through when he’s showing me the pain in his face as Odile betrays him. This goes for so many of the dancers as well. Both of our Odile’s are great actresses, which made interacting with them come easy. Mix that in with the Court Ladies and all the dancers from the different countries acting and reacting—it made my job easier, and more fun!

I was super grateful to be in a dressing room with some of my favorite people. One of them I knew before Swan Lake but the other two I met because of the show. it was so refreshing and encouraging to know that I would be around those lovely women who were kind, helpful, hilarious, and would check in on me to make sure I wasn’t overdoing anything. To know that room was a safe place no matter what happened this weekend was a gift. I could be my weird, morbid, exhausted, unfiltered self and it was just fine. I cherish them so deeply.

I was also so happy to see who came out to the show. Saturday, my sweet Alexis came and found me in the dressing room. I was so moved by this. so often you dance with these girls, spend so much time with them, then they go off to become their own adults and you never see them. sometimes they’ll come back to watch a show, but if so I rarely get to see them. When I do, it’s so incredibly special. The fact she sought me out specifically? I became a puddle. Alexis is a gem; i’m so proud of the person she is and love all the experiences we’ve gotten to have throughout dance. She was one of my first little ones to grow up and fly and i live in awe of her every day. My heart is so happy.

I also got to see Krystal, who was the Queen when we did Swan Lake in 2016. It was her shows that I watched the recordings of to figure out what the heck I was supposed to be doing. I was so grateful for them because she did such a great job it made it easy for me to try to copy and emulate. If anything, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to do it justice. When I saw her she told me how hard it was for her because she felt like she didn’t know what she was doing; that she was told that she was doing it wrong but no one could tell her how to do it right. I was so glad to hear this, because I felt the same, but when watching her she looked so regal I found myself wondering how in the world she managed to do it and if they gave her exact directions. She looked to confident. To know she felt everything I did in the lead up was so extremely helpful. i’m grateful.

I also got to see my family, former dancers Grace and Jasmine, Alexis and her mom, another mom i’m not supposed to admit because her daughter would be so mad she went without her, my sweet co worker Joanna, my quilting friends Robin, R2, and Bryan, as well as so many sweet dance friends and former students. it made me so happy.

i’m also so grateful to have Elizabeth and Chrisi. Elizabeth was Odette and Chrisi was Odile on Sunday and for school show. Last time we did Swan Lake, Elizabeth was a huge support for me in my disappointment with it all. I ended up going in as a swan when someone got hurt and was so thrilled that I got to dance a scene with Elizabeth. Now that I was the Queen, it was so rewarding having Elizabeth there to celebrate with me, knowing how much this full circle meant for me. I cherish her. I was also so thrilled because Chrisi came to us after I had to stop dancing, and I was so sad to not have had a scene with her properly. With this show, we had an entire act—and one that played to both of our strengths. We both had the same Theater Director, the legend Charlotte Brown, and for both of us to get to flex our acting chops in the same scene was so rewarding. I was so grateful to have this completion of dancing in scenes with my friends, an opportunity I may not have had otherwise.

What a wonderful experience to have, living this life. I never would have guessed 8 years ago that I would have the opportunity to be in Swan Lake again—I never expected to be in it the first time! and this show specifically since the day after the show ended in 2016 was the day I woke up and have never felt the same since. That show weekend was my last weekend as a “normal” human, as far as health goes. Two years later I was pricing wheelchairs, giving up teaching, figuring out how to give up this thing I loved, that i’d fought so hard for, that i’d struggled to find my place in. Now, here I am, working here, surrounded by ballet, completely immersed in it, finding such fulfillment in being a part of this world I so dearly love.

These kids will grow up, and more with come in as tiny little things, wearing the costumes they wore, learning the steps they knew, and i’ll get to watch them grow up, too. and getting to be a part of that is a privilege I hope to never take for granted.

had to add on these fantastic pictures Lola got on a digital camera. because, ya know, kids these days love the vintage feel of a digital camera. and now I feel 87.

Queen Rehearsals.

Today wasn’t my first rehearsal as Queen, but it was my longest and most intense rehearsal so far. I think I learned everything I do today? I’m assuming anyway.

Since I was in the studio the entire rehearsal day either on stage as the Queen or sitting watching the rest of the scene after I exit, I had a lot of time to soak in everything happening.

It’s fun to reflect back on last time we did Swan Lake in 2016, but it’s also fun to take in all the moments that make this run so special.

I’ve grown a lot in the last 8 years as a person. Age (and therapy) will do that to you, but even so it’s been really such a great experience for me overall and i’m extremely grateful.

Some fun little moments I want to remember:

• Channeling my inner Miranda Priestly a la Devil Wears Prada while being the Queen. It’s fun to get to portray a character in a light that maybe isn’t true to your own form, plus it’s just hilarious to give these girls the fakest grin and most judgmental face knowing that they’re the sweetest things and also that i’m actually sitting there watching them shine from the literal best seat in the house.

• Hearing the comments some of the girls will whisper to me when they come near the throne in Act III.

• Laughing with Sean, who had been kindly filling in as the Prince and also doing his own part as Baron Von Rothbart. Seeing how he holds himself differently depending on the role is so fun and make getting to do this even more enjoyable. I’m so glad Sean is still dancing. He was the Rat King the year I was Rat Queen and has always been so kind and encouraging throughout the years. Plus getting to watch him improve and grow has been a delight.

• Seeing the younger dancers watching and imitating the older dancers, remembering back when the older dancers were themselves the younger dancers. The cycle continues, and these kids are in good hands.

• One of the little ones I didn’t teach coming up to me and saying, “I saw you yesterday taking pictures in your Queen costume” and telling me she thought they were beautiful. I melted. She’ll never know what that meant to me.

• Getting to know the other adults in the production. It brings my heart such joy to be able to spend time with them and hear their stories and how dance came into their lives. One of them is wearing my Huntswoman costume from last time that I adore, and it looks so great on her. Such cherished friendships being made.

• Having the dancers not only accept a correction i’ll give them, but also see them apply it. It feels good to know they want to be their best and that they feel my opinion holds any sort of weight. What’s more is the surprise I had when one of the older dancers asked if I had any corrections for her. I truly didn’t because it looked so flawless to me I was just sitting back and enjoying watching her dance—I seriously could watch her all day, she is a true delight—but I did promise to watch more closely and see if there’s anything I could get nit-picky about.

Overall, this show has made me feel valued, appreciated, and loved. It’s been so nice to be around these dancers and get to be a part and have fun with them. No show is perfect, but overall I truly feel that this experience is a positive one on the whole and for that i’m grateful.

We had our program pictures yesterday and, i’ll be honest, I was nervous. As much as I try to be, i’m still not where i’d like to be in regards to confidence since I gained weight waiting for surgery a couple years ago. It takes a fun little spiral since I can’t do much to control any of that given all my health issues, especially the fatigue, and I have just resigned to rarely look in the mirror to keep my mind from being unkind to me. The consequence is I forget that i’m in a bigger body now and it becomes a bit of a shock when I see pictures and am reminded. It’s not bad, not at all, i’m just adjusting and having to work through some mental blocks because of it. Growing up in the late 90s, early aughts, was quite a difficult time and many of the things drilled into my brain like to echo even one my most resilient of days.

Thankfully, Mrs Alex is a wizard with a camera and when she showed me the shots we got I didn’t recoil. I was actually quite pleased with them, even in seeing all the differences I have now from 3 years ago. It helped, which I truly wasn’t expecting. I expected to go into it with a blank mind and a numb outlook and likely disassociate through the whole thing to preserve my mental state, but I came out of it feeling content. Even so, it made me—maybe not hopeful, but perhaps a smidge less negative or fearful of the reality i’m facing in doing this. I don’t think i’ll be able to handle watching the recording for a while and i’m hoping that I don’t recoil at show pictures, but that’s something I can work on in the lead up as well. (Bless my therapist, yall.)

That being said, the fatigue is real and i’m feelin’ it. it’s so frustrating and honestly upsetting to be so exhausted over so little by comparison to what I used to be able to tolerate. I try not to be too hard on myself over something I can’t control, but some days are better than others.

Still, i’ll hold on to the beautiful moments, from which I have plenty to choose, and keep my heart open for the future moments that undoubtably lie ahead.

What a privilege.

I’m just so happy yall.

If you know me, you know i’m prone to reflection.

If you’ve been here a while (or just found me recently and have found yourself down a rabbit hole), you’ll know about my experiences with Swan Lake the last time the Corpus Christi Ballet performed it back in 2016.

Eight years ago, I was in a much different place in life. It was my first tax season at my new job for a CPA office after having been fired from my last job (long story), I was newly sans gallbladder but didn’t know about the medication to help all the post surgery complications, and I was in my second season with my new studio and company after my first ballet studio closed down and in the middle of my fourth year of ballet, still trying to find where I fit.

It seemed as soon as I felt I may have figured it out, a wrench was thrown at me; I finally get the boldness to sign up for ballet classes and I get injured in a car wreck and have to miss the rest of the month of classes. I finally am able to take classes and start to feel comfortable at the studio and it closes. I find a new studio and start to get comfortable and then get too sick to dance.

Swan Lake was the show that marks a pivotal moment in my life. The mix of the stress of my first tax season (with no formal training) with the intensity of the ballet while also hardly being able to eat because of post surgery issues made a perfect cocktail of stress in my body. I woke up the day after shows unable to get out of bed. I took the first sick day i’ve ever taken in my adult life and have not been the same since.

The memories of that show are mixed, but isn’t that how life goes? Perfection doesn’t exist. Life hands us the cards it does and we’re left to play the cards we’re dealt. It’s up to us if we decide to let the negative parts determine everything, or if we choose to see the positives and make the most of it all.

Last go around, I was cast as a swan cover. I was disappointed as I so desperately wanted to be cast with my friends and be such an iconic role—an opportunity I never expected in the first place. I wanted to prove to them and to myself that I was good enough to dance in the corps de ballet. I fell short, but I worked hard and showed up and made the most of it. The five of us covers banded together to still enjoy ourselves, calling ourselves the Ugly Ducklings in jest, learning the parts all the different ways just in case. Three out of the five of us ended up going in the week of shows as injuries happened. It was extremely rewarding to work so hard not knowing if we’d get to perform it, and be able to blend seamlessly when the opportunity arose.

Emilee then never could have guessed life would turn out how it did. Emilee then was terrified of what her body was doing to her and the things she felt she couldn’t control. Ballet was the one thing in the world she desperately wanted, and she was trying to find where she fit in a world where adult ballet dancers weren’t really a thing. We were blazing trails 💁🏼‍♀️. Hah. But seriously, trying to find where I belonged where I was dancing with 14 year olds, but the same age as the principal dancers was a weird dynamic to navigate.

I couldn’t have landed in a better place. i’ve never once not been welcomed or made to feel like I wasn’t wanted. The girls befriended me, the principal dancers took me in, I made friends.

By the next year my world had come crashing down as my body started betraying me slowly but surely, leading to me having to quit; dance, my job, everything.

Eight years ago me never could have guessed life would take the turns it did.

Eight years ago me would be thrilled.

Now, I work for the Company that took me in. I’m surrounded by dancers of whom many have become my chosen family. Now, i’m not only in Swan Lake again, but i’m cast as the Queen. The principal dancers are still my friends and somehow the corpse de ballet dancers still think i’m cool and laugh at my jokes (thanks for that, Brooke 😉). I go to the studio happy as a clam. The fact I even still get to go to the studio is a gift I hope I never take for granted; sweet former students running into my office as soon as they come in the door to wrap their arms around my neck and hug me so tight. I hear about their lives, am asked to watch them and give corrections, get to pour into their lives and fill my heart lighten in the process.

I look back over all the years of uncertainty, when I had no idea where I belonged, when I was looking at the expiration date of the one thing i’d always wanted and never wanted to give up, and i’m just so grateful. I feel like these posts have become much the same, but i’m just so happy to know that all the difficulties, all the nights of uncertainty, all the fear was short lived. That the place I’ve ended up is back in the place where my soul feels most alive, surrounded by people who fill my life with joy.

The kids who were the tiny nuggets last time are the graduating seniors this time. One, Swan Lake in 2016 was her first spring show, and this time is her last before she goes off to college. Talk about full circle!

I’m so proud to see how they’ve grown, so honored to be a part of it, and just so happy for where my life has taken me.

Back in 2011 when I made the decision to follow this silly little dream i’d always held, people made fun of me. They criticized me, told me I was wasting my time and money, that nothing would come of it, that I needed to stop dancing and start thinking seriously about my future.

Joke’s on them.

My first Queen rehearsal is tomorrow. I’m so dang excited for how fun this is going to be.

Swan Lake cast list, 2024

it’s been a minute, not because I have nothing to say but because I can’t seem to find the words to say it.

Nutcracker 2023 was difficult, for many reasons. it had some beautiful moments—finally having some of my former students as party girls, spending time with the older girls, feeling loved and supported, and much more besides. Even still, I can’t bring myself to make an entire post about it. It’s too difficult. There’s too many things I just can’t say.

Spring show, thankfully, has already been a vast improvement. What’s more, it’s a show I was in before. If you’ve been around a bit, you’ll remember my experiences with Swan Lake in 2016; how I was cast as a cover for swans, the disappointment, the endurance, the chance to perform it after someone got injured week of. I haven’t re read my posts from then, so I’m unsure what all I spoke of, but I remember also being really sick then. The day after shows ended was the day I woke up and have never been the same. I was hardly eating because I couldn’t keep anything down (before I knew about the medication i’m on now), everything was complicated and difficult and I felt I had half a brain. Following that was when I was my most sick—had to stop dancing, had to quit my job, had a handicap parking placard, didn’t have enough energy to walk a grocery store, was looking at wheelchairs—and now, after all the work and effort, I have a quality of life that’s different than I had before I woke up that morning after shows but is better than I thought would be possible to have again.

Last time, the group of us five covers called ourselves the “Ugly Ducklings” because we wanted to be swans. It was our way of making light of our disappointment so we could make the most of it, to band together and feel we had something to be a part of, camaraderie.

This time, I got cast as the Queen.

It feels like a full circle moment I never could have guessed would ever be possible. Not after how sick I got, not after everything I lost and had to give up, not after everything i’ve been through in the last eight years.

I went from staring at the reality of giving up every connection I had to ballet, having to stop dancing, stop teaching, and making the decision to not be in Nutcracker or teach privates anymore to now I work for the Ballet and am the Queen in the show that was one of the biggest turning points in my story not only as a dancer but entirely.

Our company has grown substantially in the last eight years. I’d be hard pressed to find a dancer who knows majority of the people I talk about when I mentioned dancers from the last time we did the show, the exception being the college aged dancers who were villagers old enough to know some of the girls, and the one who had a sister in that group I danced with.

It’s a unique position i’ve found myself in—the shift from peer to employee. I know these girls dancing, watched them grow up. We chat and laugh and sometimes cry, but it’s not like before. Most of these girls didn’t know me as a corps dancer. Heck, last week some of them were taking bets on how old they thought I was, and they were off by ten years.

But truly, this unique position is one of my greatest joys in my life, getting to know these girls, talk with them, hear their experiences, see their split second death glares when I catch their eye walking by knowing they’re doing their best to have a good attitude about whatever it is they aren’t a fan of happening in the moment—a truly universal experience. I love hearing about their hopes and their dreams, I love answering their questions, hearing their theories, or comparing stories about what they remember from when they were younger, many of them having their first spring show experience be my last.

Last time, the cast list came out and I cried, utterly disappointed and feeling like I failed myself, processing those emotions and doing my best to do the best I could anyway. This time, the cast list came out and these sweet girls text and messaged and posted various congratulations from telling me it was perfectly fitting to saying they will only refer to me as “you’re majesty” from now on.

It makes me feel so good to have the support of these sweet souls, especially in this show.

It makes me reflect back on the last 12.5 years of my dancing experience, 9.5 of those years being at this studio. Remembering how I felt I didn’t really have a place where I belonged—dancing ballet as an adult was still a pretty unheard of thing then, at least in this capacity. Friends I made through my instagram account were some of the first in the adult ballet community on social media, and now it’s coming up on my FYP left and right. We were the trailblazers in a weird time of the growth and shift in social media to be more accessible and able to get our stories out there faster. I’ve made some of my greatest friends through this little dream I had to one day have the pointe shoes little Emilee always dreamed of having. I’ve accomplished things I never even dared to dream of accomplishing, dancing with a pre professional company, and now working for that same company. I get to continue on this path in ways I never could have imagined to even hope for, all because I dared to try a thing i’d always dreamed of doing just because i’d always wanted to.

i’m surrounded by people who love me every time I step foot in to that building, i’m supported in the things I do, i’m encouraged to keep the boundaries I need to make sure I remain the healthiest version of myself possible. i’m so behind grateful.

Rehearsals began last week, and they’re already looking really great. There’s of course much to learn and perfect, but these girls have risen in ways i’m so proud to see.

While trying to better organize my house today, I found the notebook I used to keep in my dance bag, complete with notes of the part I had to learn when I was put in as a swan after a dancer got injured theater week. It was a different section than the one i’d been covering in rehearsals, not necessarily difficult, just one I wasn’t used to and I wanted to make sure I was my best for it. Seeing the video during rehearsals, i’m pleased to say I blend right in to the corps, only able to be picked out since I was the tallest. I’m proud of 8-years-ago me, proud of her tenacity, her ability to honor her emotions but also to push through them and make the most of the situation, and the reward in getting to do the thing i’d been working so hard for.

I’m proud of current me, working for a ballet company I love so dearly, getting another chance to be involved in this ballet in a way that makes my heart swell to think about.

I’m so grateful for this full circle experience, to bring even more joy to my memories of this ballet, and to have these girls a part of it.

messy, scattered notes from when I was put in as a swan the week of shows.

	Emilee on Learning to Read (Music)
	JL on Learning to Read (Music)
	Emilee on Swan Lake cast list, 2024
	fizzielou on Swan Lake cast list, 2024
	Jody on Recital 2023