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.
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.
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.
I’ve been wanting to write this post for a while, but of course life sometimes makes that difficult.
I’m so grateful and so glad to be able to have my blog active again, yet my health junk–the fatigue in particular–can sometimes make it difficult to get words out the way I want them. Also, I have to be a little more careful and aware of what I’m writing since I work there now, but that’s not entirely difficult. (Just means some of my best stories I’m not allowed to share. Which is fair. How’s that for suspense? Hah!)
One that I am able to share happened about a month ago.
I teach private lessons to a few of the dance kids, most of them my former students. One sweet little nugget I began working with this season is my little ray of sunshine. She is a delight to work with as she loves dance so much and is very aware and astute in her observations during rehearsals.
After we started lessons, her mom, who I have developed a dear friendship with since this past Nutcracker, approached me with a question,
“Would you consider teaching an adult beginner?”
If you’ve been around a while or read any of my posts, you’ll know why this had me absolutely delighted. This is literally my entire ballet shtick. It’s how this blog is “a thing” and how I’ve managed to meet many of my dearest friends. My heart absolutely swelled knowing she was unknowingly asking me to also join this wonderful world of beginning ballet as an adult, learning to dance because your heart begs for it, and fulfilling that desire for the younger version of you that for whatever reason wasn’t allowed to.
The next week, we began.
It was an absolute thrill to work with Angel. To be on the other side of this; I was once the student, and now I’m the teacher. I was once the adult beginner, and now I’m teaching one. The full-circle moment is something beyond words, and something I truly cherish. Especially teaching someone like Angel, who is every bit what her name suggests. My life is already better having her in it, and now we get to share something that’s so sacred to me personally. It’s beautiful.
It was also interesting coming into it with the perspective I have; remembering what it felt like to be a complete beginner as a “grown up,” how your brain makes connections in different ways, but is capable of soaking up new information even if that stereotype is generally reserved for children.
We went through the positions of the arms and feet, separately then together. I explained that we mainly work out of first and fifth, that fourth and second are used more in center and choreography and in between movements of steps, and that for us personally we don’t use third much but it’s still important to learn so you know when someone asks for fifth, it’s not third. I explained how there’s different versions of third for your arms, depending on what you’re doing, but that we’d get into that later. I didn’t want to overwhelm her, and this was a lot of information, even if it’s literally the very basis. It’ll one day be second nature to her, but first it has to be introduced.
Then we went on to the basic steps I teach all my students: Plie, releve, tendu, pique, passe, soute, echappe. I talked through them and explained, giving different funny examples that helps my brain remember the details about them. She soaked it up like a sponge, making connections from what she’s witnessed in her daughters dancing and applying it to her own. It was really cool to get to watch.
From there we did some floor work. I mainly did this by asking what she’d like to work on and learn. We started with pique turns, which she picked up really well. We began the process by doing pique passe across the floor, getting used to the motion, thinking through making sure our knee is straight when we pique the standing leg and having a strong proper passe on the working leg. Then we added in the turning motion. Since Angel is an adult, I explained that it’s technically a 3/4 turn, showing how you prepare for the next turn by coming down at the right moment to place you where you need to be. By the end, she was rocking them.
We did a few other things, and ended with Grand Jete’s. I showed her the arm positions, showed how there’s different ways to get into them (as she’d witnessed with her daughter) and she went for it. She had beautiful height, straight knees, pointed toes even. Her arms were where they needed to be, all was going so well.
Then on the last one, she landed and we heard a pop.
Calmly, she hopped on the other foot, saying she thinks she rolled her ankle. We sat down and evaluated the situation, talked through what just happened, I told her she was doing the step properly and it looked really good. We told stories, she laughed, as casually as though we were sharing stories of flowers we’d seen in a field or something. She felt around on her foot, seeing if she could point it and such, then she said she felt something pop again.
One trip to urgent care later and turns out, she broke it. My friend Lillian had a similar injury a few years back when I was still dancing, and she managed it when she was doing an italian pas de chat–sort of similar in how the foot comes down and where.
Yet Angel is not deterred. This one set back isn’t going to stop her from pursuing what she desires. She’s not foolish enough to ignore the fact her body is telling her something, and we will change up our approach and what steps we will work on once her foot has healed, but she’s eager to get back to work once she’s cleared.
I admire her, both for her tenacity and for her honoring her body and limitations. So often people just exploit inspiration without considering stepping back is okay and sometimes what is wise. It doesn’t always mean you have to give up what you love, but it may mean it looks differently than before.
With my own health, it’s been difficult dealing with what I’m sure are well meaning comments from people, trying to tell me I could keep dancing if I just put my mind to it, expecting me to be driven enough to be like these “inspiring” people who fight through whatever and put their bodies through hell to achieve x, y, and z. While there’s no doubt I am driven, I also recognize that my body doesn’t give a crap about that. I have limits, and that’s okay. I’ve been lucky enough to manage to be given opportunities that keep me involved in the ballet in ways I never thought possible. They’re also ways that may have made past me sad to think about; being on the sidelines while I watch everyone do what I love. But from this vantage point, from the way my story played out, I can look back on the days I danced with gratitude and pride, being so grateful to past me that I started when I did, giving me time to do what I so badly desired before I was unknowingly approaching a time when I would be unable to. I look at where I am and realize what an absolute privilege it is to be where I am, that the path I took was a unique one, making me qualified and setting me up to fill this role in ways that aren’t typical.
Had I listened to the doubters, I would have been deprived of such a wonderful and arguably my favorite part of my life, not even knowing what I was sacrificing.
It’s not that the before was better, but that the entire story is a beautiful one. One I’m proud of.
The next time I saw Angel, I brought her one of my “Begin.” shirts I still have from when I was selling them. This is just the beginning for her. This part isn’t the end of her dance story, it’s just a chapter in it. It’s just one blog post of many as she continues on.
I’m so proud of her, and truly honored to get to be a part of it, thrilled to get to have a front row view of her progress.
My favorite movie has long been Uptown Girls, and when I tell people that most haven’t even heard it; but I stand by it. Even when it comes to a point I haven’t seen it in a while and I think to myself, “surely my love for this movie has waned a bit,” I’ll revisit in and sure enough in near tears and covered in goosebumps. Why? I don’t know if I could really tell you, but the fact remains.
Recently it has seemed to hold an additional meaning I never could have expected, on that is encompassed in the last line “Ray” says, which is where the title of this post comes from:
“Every ending is just a new beginning.”
When I wrote my last blog post, the world was a different place, let alone me being a different person. It was December 2019, most people hadn’t even heard of Covid-19, let alone had a clue what that would hold for our world as a whole–the loss, the fear, the confusion, the solitude, the suffering–and even in that, the positive things like the connections that were formed out of necessity and how many people started realizing the importance of caring for your fellow human. For me personally, it has meant a bit more research into the disease that has taken over my life from a post viral infection of the Epstein Barr Virus I got from the chicken pox I was intentionally exposed to as a child to “get it over with” which reactivated in me as an adult and is what has dictated much of my life since, including having to give up dancing ballet; something I had long fought for.
Of course in that, there are personal frustrations this pandemic has brought me, as well as continued fears for my safety as my health conditions aren’t fully understood. I’m not allowed to get a flu vaccine, does that mean I can’t get a covid vaccine? Do I have a weakened or heightened immune system? What will happen to me if I get covid, seeing as I live with the chicken pox equivalent of “long covid” as it is. I’ve made it this far, at times with near misses to direct exposure, without getting covid for which I am extremely grateful.
I didn’t get to have my last recital with my dancers as covid required many shut downs at the beginning, which included our ballet’s performances. I believe it was absolutely the right decision to keep people safe. It also was an inevitable one that left me feeling as though my close of this chapter of my life was one that ended more abruptly than I could have hoped–because it was. I still wrote notes to all my dancers and put them with their costumes to have when they picked up and hoped I’d have the opportunity to see them one day in the uncertain future. I had just told our artistic director the week before we shut down that I would for sure not be able to return to teaching, and was going to tell my students parents when we returned from spring break, but we never did.
I know it was the right decision for me, as teaching the next year, even with the safety precautions, would have been too big of a risk for me than I could afford to take. At least I was prepared mentally for that year to be my last, rather than having it forced upon me by a global pandemic. It helped ease the sting of ending this thing I love so dearly a smidge.
As it stood, I wasn’t sure if I would come back for Party Scene in The Nutcracker or not; so much of it would depend on things no one could predict until we got closer. Then, in August of 2020, our beloved Drosselmeyer passed away of a stroke. My heart shattered. He was the heartbeat of our production, having done the role for the past 27 years, I believe, and still every performance was as magical as if it were the first time seeing it. I was devastated, his passing was such an unexpected thing in a world that was already so inundated with uncertainty. I swore I couldn’t do a Nutcracker without him–it would hurt too much; and, after all, I had already lost so much in the ballet world. I didn’t think I could face it.
And then:
I was dog sitting for one of my favorite ballet families. They returned home shortly before auditions, and I needed to drop something off to or pick something up from them, I can’t remember which. The easiest way to do this would be to meet them at the ballet building on audition day. I was nervous; I hadn’t seen so many of these people I loved since the world shut down. I didn’t know how my emotions could cope with it all. I walk in and two of my favorites, one of whom was the last of the original group of girls I danced with when I started at this studio and danced with the Corps, came up to me as soon as they saw me. They hugged me and asked, “are you doing Nutcracker this year?” and I looked at them, and I felt the love in that room, and I couldn’t imagine not doing it.
In that moment, Catherine and Macey reminded me of what a beautiful place the ballet is, that being there is exactly where I would need to be and especially in a time of such a loss we all felt so deeply. I decided then that yes, I would do Party Scene again, and began to fill with hope at the predictability of it as I was surrounded by other people who had also survived this pandemic so far and also grieved the loss of our beloved Xavier and also were filled with such gratitude to just be there doing the thing we loved. I told Mrs. Alex, our artistic director, to count me in for this year. She was elated which made me feel even better.
So often I have struggled with feeling like I belong anywhere. I’ve felt that, even when I give everything I have to give and try my best to offer everything I’m able to an experience, there still isn’t a place for me. Somehow, I’m seen just for what I can do for the place/situation/group/et cetera, and not for who I am as a person. I feel replaceable from the start; which of course everyone is replaceable, we all have to be, if not the world would not endure and that would be the end of it. But there’s something magical about when you find a place that gives back to you as much as you put in, and for a bit I wondered if the ballet would finally be that for me. It’s been my most enduring “relationship” to date and left me feeling so fulfilled in ways I’d searched for in so many places that always came up short or left me with enough stories to make my therapist cry when I recount them. And as soon as I was sure I had finally found my place, it was taken from me by the cruelty of chronic illness, and once again I’m back at square one trying to find something in this world that doesn’t make me feel like I solely exist in the world to fill needs for other people, screw what I may need, right?
I gave it up. I said my goodbyes. I left it all, save for the one private lesson I taught by zoom during covid because I’m extremely stubborn and it helped me feel like I had a purpose; that all those years of fighting wasn’t wasted, and I’d hold on as long as I could. She was old enough to be instructed just by explaining so I wasn’t worn out from showing all the different things. I made peace with the fact that life isn’t fair and no matter how hard we try, we really don’t have control over anything, even if we’re stubborn, even if we hold on with a vice grip–life doesn’t care. There’s no quota of loss you somehow reach and then have sunshine and roses forever. You can always lose more; this fact weighed heavily on me, and I sat with it and came to a point of acceptance.
During the shutdowns, my herniated disks in my lower back became unstable and hit my nerve, causing immense pain. I had to wait seven months to get in to see the doctor since I was new to insurance (bless my former boss who fought for me to be a permanent position and to have two extra hours so I could get benefits, including insurance–this kicked in February 2020.) and as soon as we got the MRI he referred me to an orthopedic specialist. Getting scheduled for surgery took another two months, and I was nervous because I’ve been told by doctors and friends and precious old ladies at water aerobics that doctors here make things worse rather than better for back hernias. I took a risk, seeing as I can’t afford, financially and physically, to travel and ended up with a wonderful competent Doctor who didn’t even have to take the whole disk and was determined not to put hardware into my back, which I appreciate. Of course, this would mean if I hadn’t already given up dance I would have had to, which I’m not surprised about. I also found out I have scoliosis, which makes things make a lot of sense. We’ve also done MRI’s on my shoulder and I’m told it’s sprained. All the issues I was having are still around, and it started from taking off my jacket incorrectly which dislocated my shoulder and put it back in, irritating all the ligaments or whatever it is in my shoulder. Of course, this is aggravated by port de bras and everything else vital to ballet. Between the two, even just doing a simple barre myself is risky and likely to make things worse.
While I haven’t been formally diagnosed by a doctor, a good friend of mine, Krista, showed me how you can take your raw data from Ancestry DNA and search for EDS markers in it to see if you have EDS. I figured it was worth a shot before paying for genetic testing, and I wrote down the markers I had. Dear reader, it would have been easier to write down the markers I didn’t have, and I have found I actually have three different types: Classical Type, Kyphoscoliotic Type, and Dermatosparaxis Type. I do still need to get formally tested, but that requires energy and money and time I do not currently have. I feel satisfied in this for now, though I do hope to one day further pursue formal diagnosis. My current Primary Care doctor has told me he is open to referring me to anywhere I want to go for it, so that is on the table, which I’m grateful for. All of this would also mean that my stomach issues this whole time have been due to Mast Cell Activation Syndrome–basically your body is sensitive to histamines and treats certain foods as allergens. I had found this at the suggestion of someone in a support group I’m in on Facebook and tried out the FODMAP way of eating to see if it would help and, wouldn’t you know it? I can go days, weeks, even months without getting sick. I wish I had known this before my gallbladder came out. I wish many things, but especially that as it seems to have been the source of many of my issues, possibly including the re-occurance of EBV, leading to my ME/CFS (the fatigue bit.) If you’re a longtime reader of my blog, you’ll know just how life changing all of this information is for me. I have been able to learn how to eat in ways that don’t cause me stress, though I’ll forever have disordered eating to a degree. I’ve also, during the shut down, seen a lovely local Psychologist and been diagnosed with ADHD, OCD, anxiety, depression, and Sensory Processing Disorder, which made my life make a lot of sense and thus gave me the ability to extend myself grace in all these places I was told I was “wrong” or needed to “fix.”
To say it’s been a life altering few years would be an understatement.
Now that I’ve said all that, why the heck am I posting a blog post? We thought I was done with this, right?
I thought the same, however, back in August I was doing one of my private lessons. We moved it in person, as schedule and safety finally allowed it and my sweet nugget has gotten her pointe shoes. (cue tears because time is wild.) While there, Ms. Munro–our Artistic Director and studio owner–was in the office of the teaching studio we were using since it was registration time for classes. She pops her head out and asks if I’m sure I’m not able to teach any classes. I confirm that I’m just not physically able to commit to that as it’s too much for me to handle. She asks how my job is treating me and I tell her it’s going well and I have been able to find a good balance on maintaining my energy levels and everything. She’s pleased to hear it, which makes me feel good.
The next day I get a call from our ballet board president, offering me a part time gig at the company studio working in the office. I listened to her describe some of the responsibilities I would have, all things I could hear and understand immediately on what would need to be done. She told me to think about it over the weekend and get back to her Monday, but that she thought I would be a perfect fit if I wanted to join.
I was shocked. I sat on my friends couch, as I was dog sitting, and thought it through, evaluating my energy levels and if I could take on an extra 20 hours a week on top of my 30 at the court house. I thought through all the possible scenarios I could come up with, people I would be working with and for, potential stress triggers, et cetera, then I called a good friend of mine and asked her to tell me honestly if she thought I could handle it.
“Oh, definitely.”
On Monday, I called and let them know I was interested, and I started the next week. It’s been two full months and so far the worst thing I’ve messed up is forgetting to attach a document on an email–in other words, it’s going great.
TL;DR, in a wild turn of events, I have found myself back in the ballet world in the most perfect way for me. I’m thrilled and loving it and will be back to the blog, writing about my adventures from this side of things. My hands have been shaking typing this, whether out of nerves or excitement I’m not entirely sure. So much has changed and yet so much remains.
If you’re a nosey-nancy and wondering if I will be dishing out deep dark secrets of behind the scenes things I’m privy to–that’s a hard no. Find that gossip elsewhere because it won’t be here. But if you’d like to read about my adventures and experiences and the good feelings I’ve had so far, please do stick around.
I’m excited to have a reason to be posting again, as I have missed you all so dearly. Thank you for coming back and coming along for this new ride. I look forward to sharing it with you ❤
In the words of Taylor Swift, lets watch it begin again.
Another Night at the Barre 