Corpus Christi Ballet – 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.

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.

Cinderella 2023

Now that I’ve had a few days to pretend like I’m recovering, I’m finally sitting down to type up the blog post for Cinderella.

We had one weekend of shows; a school show on Friday, an evening show on Saturday, and a matinee on Sunday with rehearsals at the theater peppered between.

There were many bits that were exhausting and overwhelming, but all things considered this show went substantially better than Nutcracker did this past December. Maybe because I’m more confident in what I’m doing, maybe because the cast is smaller, maybe because it’s only one weekend, maybe a combination of these things and others–who knows. All I know is I’m grateful.

I’m also extremely grateful for the dance parents who have been absolutely phenomenal in giving of their time and energy to help make this show run smoothly. I can guarantee that their efforts contributed to how smoothly these shows went, and how much less stressful it was for me personally. They’re rock stars and my gratitude knows no bounds.

These rehearsals were long, and many of the dancers are young and not used to it, yet they handled it with grace and endurance. Much of the time they ended up being released early, but even then it wasn’t something we could know until rehearsals got started and we knew what areas needed work and which looked good.

I was a “Wig Maker” in the show, helping one of the Step-sisters in the Dressing Scene by putting the wig on after two other dancers got her ball gown on. Roles like this are really fun for me as you get the opportunity to really make the role your own. With one of the step-sisters, we brainstormed little bits we could do to make it funnier, like getting giant tweezers and “tweezing her face” as well as filing her nails and such. I also brought a giant feather I had to act as a quill a la Lady Whistledown from Bridgerton. The whole scene lasted maybe three minutes or so, and they decided to let us bow at the end. This took me by surprise, as usually first act scenes don’t bow at the end of second act, especially a little bit part like this, but I can see why, given that if we didn’t we would literally be the only ones in the show not bowing.

I called my costume, affectionate, “The Potato” as it was this big brown thing. Mrs. Jane made me a really great bonnet to go with it and, coming in clutch, her husband Jim made me way better “tools” to use for the face plucking and nail filing. What I had before were long and sharp. How literally none of us recognized the danger these things posed is beyond me, but Mrs. Jane saved the day and have Mr. Jim make me big sparkly props that were absolutely fantastic–and in two hours, no less. I kept them, and am quite fond of them. Their entire family really means a lot to me, making sure I’m taken care of and informed, even walking me to my car after late shows since they know I’m alone. Little things that add up to a whole lot.

While I’m quite proud of the dancers as a whole, for their various personal triumphs and accomplishments, there’s two in particular I want to write about.

There were two sets of Step-sisters, the Saturday night set being a set of our Principal dancers, and the Sunday set being two of our soloists.

Jessica, in the green dress (the one I wigged up,) is a fellow adult ballerina, though she didn’t begin as an adult. She’s built her way up and when she and her husband moved to Corpus, she joined us here at CCB. I first met her last year when I wore a University of Kansas jacket and she came up and said, “Rock, Chalk, Jayhawk?” and I excitedly exclaimed, “Rock, Chalk, Jayhawk!” We’ve been friends ever since.

Last year I watched as she danced roles with some of the high school girls, having the best attitude and outlook on it all, lighting up the stage with her presence. I can’t even remember what her Nutcracker roles were, as some of the high school girls were no doubt cast above her, but when the cast list came out for Cinderella, I saw her name as a step sister and said, “oh, PERFECT.” Because it is. Casting Jessica as a step sister is absolutely perfect, which was only further confirmed with each rehearsal. The comedy she brought to the role often had me forgetting to go back to the office when I popped into the studio for something or another, instead being drawn in by her performance. So often in ballet, beautiful and talented dancers can end up overlooked for one reason or another, usually nothing personal though it can feel deeply as such, and seeing that happen can be really disheartening, let alone feeling it. But seeing Jessica completely nail this role so perfectly was extremely rewarding. She and Kaelin played off each other so well and you could tell they were having so much fun.

Speaking of Kaelin, she’s the other one I want to write about in this post. The step sister with the orange dress, she and I didn’t interact in our small scene, other than a quick glance in character, but watching her had me absolutely beaming with pride.

Kaelin was one of the little nuggets when I first started dancing at Munro. I remember waiting for my classes and peeking in through the window to watch their level II’s class when they first barely got their pointe shoes. She was a villager my first Spring show in Wizard of Oz and it was quickly evident what a delight she was (and is.) I watched as Kaelin looked up to the “big girls” as she danced, watched her recital dances through the years, watched her be called up as a back up understudy in my last role in which I was an understudy put in the very first rehearsal, watched her take on the roles I did, and watched as she surpassed my skillset. I watched her do Dew Drop on an injury, trying to find the tricky balance between enduring while risking further injury and taking a step back for recovery. Having the injury so close to shows, she endured, and thankfully the risk was worth it. And now I had the extreme honor of watching her take the challenge of such an advanced role, shared with one of our top Principal dancers, and completely rock it, making it look easy, even. I watched the little dancers watch her, one of the “big girls,” and see how their faces glow as she acknowledges them, some of them her students, others not. I heard their whispers of how cool they think she is and saw them trying to do the moves she did in the aisles.

When you have a young group of dancers, you have thoughts about what these kids could grow to be. You see their skills and drive, or lack thereof, and can sometimes guess which ones will continue on and which ones won’t. Kaelin has always had the drive, and she’s honed her skills over the years by paying attention and making the most of every opportunity. She’s not a kid anyone would have expected to just be handed these things, but worked her way up through the ranks, a normal dancer who had the endurance and self discipline to keep going, and now she gets to reap the rewards of her hard work. It’s been an absolute joy watching her as a step sister, and also seeing her as the Fairy Godmother during school shows, and even stepping up to cover Lead Star when Haeleigh hurt her foot the week of shows while working on recital in class. (:( my heart is sad for Haeleigh.) She has risen to the occasion and I couldn’t be more proud.

There’s loads of dancers I’m proud of who have taken great responsibility and really risen up this show, and some who have endured some really difficult things, dancing while their heart is breaking. I wish I could do more to reward them for their efforts.

After school show, we brought back a school whose teacher used to dance with us. It was so much fun seeing their reactions to the costumes and backdrops and props up close, and even more fun seeing Chrisi, our Cinderella that show who also knew Holly, the teacher, talk the kids through what it takes to make a production happen. Their eyes filled with wonder and Chrisi’s gentle instruction was a joy to behold, some of our dancers even being entranced by her explaining how she prepares her shoes to dance. The whole scene was so magical and heartwarming.

On Sunday, we had a big thunderstorm roll through, causing some localized flooding and the power to flicker before shows started. We were all on pins and needles, unsure of what might actually happen during the show and hoping against all hope the power would stay on and the audience would still show up. Thankfully, we didn’t have the orchestra, as the basement definitely flooded, and the power stayed on past the one flicker about an hour before curtain.

On Saturday, one of my favorite stories I’ll tell forever occurred.

James, who was our Step Mother, had his dressing room on the same floor as the stage. Around the corner, in fact. Somehow, the lock engaged on the handle, making him unable to get inside his dressing room after the ball scene to change back into his regular dress. We asked security if they could get someone to unlock it. They tracked down the lady with the keys and she came to unlock it, but didn’t have the correct keys. I asked James what he would do, and he had me hook his dress back up and said, “I’ll just make it work” in such a calm and composed manner. A true professional. I told him I’d wait for her to come back and bring his dress over. His cue, of course, was on the other side of the stage, and I had absolutely zero clue when he went back on, but tried not to worry about it. The lady got back and, about four or five tries later, got the right key and opened it. I thanked her, grabbed the dress, and looked around for anything else, spotting his wig/headpiece combo and grabbing it as well. Then, I ran, waving the wig so he’d see me coming, trying not to clomp backstage as I was in my character shoes. Tim, a hairdresser who was also the Head Wig Maker in the production (among other things) got his dress unhooked. James stepped into the costume, I shoved in his petticoat as Tim started working on switching out the wigs and headpieces. I got James’s skirt hooked and tried to start on the dress, my hands shaking, when someone behind me said, “start at the top!” And thankfully they did, my brain spaced and I hadn’t even thought of that. I told James I would keep going until his cue. Joe, our stage manager, came over with a flashlight and I went as fast as I could, taking about two tries on each of these bajillion hooks and eyes, feeling more hopeful with each one. As I got the last one fastened, I let James know I was done, and literally without a second to spare, he walked on in perfect timing for his cue. I looked at Tim, and said something like, “did we just pull that off?” then doubled over as the adrenaline coursed through my body.

I couldn’t recreate that if I tried. Had I stopped long enough to doubt or wonder if I’d have enough time, had I not ran, had she not had the right keys the second time, had I forgotten the headpiece–any of it and I’m sure loads more–it wouldn’t have worked, yet James sauntered on as if nothing happened out of the ordinary and the audience was none the wiser.

I have no doubt had James gone on in his ball dress he would have made it work, but I’m glad we were able to pull it off.

…and I just answered the phone at my courthouse job as “Corpus Christi Ballet,” so on that note, I’m gonna leave you with pictures and sign off. Please note, we got a good laugh at my mix-up.

behind the scenes magic

I intended to write this post last month, but after 3.5 years of avoiding it covid hit me. I did better than I expected with it, for which i’m incredibly grateful and recognize my privilege in that. I think the avoidance for so long helped me personally so it was more mutated by the time I actually got it, but I know for some people that doesn’t matter. what a difficult time to live in and navigate.

In the in between of Nutcracker and auditions for Spring Show, I didn’t see many people, but a few people came by for various things. One raffle prize winner has a granddaughter that dances with us. When she arrived to pick up her prize, we got into conversation about the productions and the discipline that goes into it as well as the magic. I asked if she had ever been in the studio, she said only to drop her granddaughter off. I offered her a tour which she gladly accepted.

From the foyer of our studio, you walk through a costume room with tutus and character dresses and rat heads hanging from the ceiling and carefully stacked. Many times the dancers walk passed it without a second thought, used to the sight of of the stacks of fabric they pass by week after week, some pausing to comment on what animal they were as 7 year olds or the seemingly endless years of villager roles, but most rushing past to the studio without a second thought.

This lady gasped; she was in complete awe of the vastness of it. I pointed out a few costumes from recent ballets, talked about the fire we had in the 1990s and showed some of the costumes that survived that we still use and which ones we got from Louisville Ballet after that have held up so well over the last 30 years of constant use with who knows how many years of use before that.

From there I walked her through the break room and showed her the studio. A room we are so familiar with its easy to forget how impressive it is. A converted warehouse, there’s a weight-bearing support structure in the middle of the front of the floor, one each dancer is all too familiar with avoiding while rehearsing and having to adjust to its absence when we’re on stage.

There’s a wall of thick cubed windows, made in a way you can’t see through them but allow a beautiful amount of natural light to come in, and a back wall of mirrors with curtains pulled back and tucked behind the barres when not in use. The lady was so impressed, speaking to how awe inspiring it was to see the place where we work in the lead up to performances. We talked about the process and how things translate from there to stage, seeing the light in her eyes bringing a smile to my face.

It truly is magic.

It’s easy to forget when it’s something you’re so closely involved in, something you’re so used to dedicating so much of your time to, something you experience so often. If we allow ourselves to take a step back and notice the magic flowing all around us, remember the first time we were involved, remember how we felt the first time we put on a tutu, remember our excitement with goals we achieved—remember the magic—we can bring a little bit of that with us and translate it onto the stage. Sometimes we need to take a step back and realize how incredibly lucky and privileged we are to be involved in something like this at all, and for us specifically at our studio to be under the tutelage of such a legendary teacher.

Of course, there will be downs along with the ups, and there is cause to feel and process the not-so-magical parts of this world. There’s disappointment and difficulty and long, long days. There are things completely out of our control and things that feel personal but aren’t, some I remember all too well (aye swifties) from my own experiences. However, the conclusion I came to is I dance for me. Ballet is what I make it. For some people, that includes a change of some form, a move, an adjustment, a program elsewhere than their home studio, a shake up in their routine. For others, it’s a mentality shift, a step back, a perspective change.

What you bring to ballet is your legacy to it. And if you bring your best, if you work hard, if you do it for you, that’s a beautiful legacy to leave, and you should be proud of yourself on that.

Today as I go back to the studio for rehearsals, sitting at my desk in the office and flitting back and forth from the studio for various tasks, i’ll choose to remember the magic, to hold the memories of the days when my body let me move freely close, and appreciate the privilege it is to have involvement still even with my limitations.

crunch time.

I had every intent of making posts far more regularly, however life had other plans.

Still, I want to make sure I get this post written before opening weekend when I’m sure to have far more stories to tell that will make the details of these begin to fade, and I want to make sure I remember them.

A few days after I officially returned, we got a really heavy rain which for our old building means a bit of flooding and internet issues. Usually, we’re out a day, maybe two, and then back up and running. This time, that wasn’t the case. When we called our provider they informed us the underground cable had to be completely replaced and they didn’t have a timeline for when that might be completed. Their best suggestion was to get a hot spot.

I had come in to the office that Monday, October 31, to send an email reminding of the Ad due date that weekend. The rain happened the next day, Tuesday, November 1. We found out Friday that they would have to replace the cable and began the scramble to find work-arounds until we could get back up and running.

And it wasn’t just internet that was out. We didn’t have access to our phones, we couldn’t print tickets, couldn’t run payments, and our printer works off WiFi, so we couldn’t send anything to print. We did have a backup that’s supposed to work even in extreme cases like hurricanes, but it didn’t work either.

First order of business was figuring out how to endure the weekend. Thankfully, I had copies of all of the forms we would need for the weekend already printed, and our printer still functioned as a copier, so I made a bunch of copies of each of the forms to help fill the gap of everything we couldn’t access. When the weekend arrived, it was full of apologies, while offering the temporary fixes which usually did the trick. The hiccup was the fact I had missed changing the date on one of the forms we sent out for when the Ads were due and didn’t know until that weekend. We, of course, accepted them when that incorrect date said since that was my mistake, but most were able to get them in by the 4th anyway, which was helpful, and the ones who couldn’t we knew to be expecting so we could leave the size space for them.

After we got through rehearsal weekend, we got a hotspot hooked up and I came in Monday to get as much caught up as possible from the weekend. During rehearsals, I usually don’t come in Mondays or Tuesdays since I’m there through the weekends, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I believe between the two jobs I work, that week I put in 75 hours. And after the first day of using the hotspot, it stopped working for some reason, so I used the one on my phone, which wasn’t my idea. My brain seemed to short circuit through all of this, but thankfully someone suggested it and it worked. One of the dance moms, Jackie, found a way to use the backup thing so the printer could scan to the computer even if it couldn’t print, which saved my butt with the Ads as we scan in many of them and send them over.

Then, I reached out via email to our ticketing liaison, Jeff, who is a legend. He got us set up at the actual box office so we could print tickets, which my friend Nicole powered through and got caught up so quickly it was incredible. She also had us caught up up until this outage fiasco, so we weren’t behind to start with, which was nice. The only thing we couldn’t find a work around for was the phones, so those just had to wait. I felt terrible, but there was nothing I could do.

We were out of commission, using these patches for three weeks before it came up. They never notified us, I just happened to notice once that my hotspot wasn’t on but I could see the emails, looked at our internet tower thing and saw the green lights all on. A glorious day.

When I went to check the voicemails, we had 86. I wrote them all down and called back the ones who hadn’t emailed, getting hold of most of the people who we had missed. Thankfully, ballet patrons here are lovely and were completely understanding of our delay, most just happy to hear back from someone. I don’t like making phone calls, but obviously it’s part of the job. It’s made a little easier knowing what I’m talking about so I mentally prepare myself and hope for the best. Take that, anxiety.

In all of this, we have gotten the ads in and program produced, ticket orders in and printed, school shows reserved and seats assigned, raffle tickets logged and submitted, questions answered and studio running. Now, I’m thankfully at the point where it’s the lead up to opening weekend and I’m caught up, having double checked everything I had marked on emails while things were clunky to go back and make sure I didn’t miss anything. I’m going to triple check this week, just in case, but I don’t have as much on my plate as I expected. It appears as though we are through the worst of it and now its mostly just normal office management things I have on my to do list.

I have found the busier I am, the more difficult it becomes to manage my physical and mental health. During the covid shutdowns, I was seeing a psychologist (ironic timing) and diagnosed with ADHD, OCD, PTSD, Sensory Processing Disorder, anxiety, and depression, though I have a good handle on them most days. This was the real first test in that and it yielded interesting results. About two of the three weeks of the internet outage, I found myself really struggling, having to pull myself out of mental spirals and fight compulsions in ways I hadn’t experienced since before I knew what these things were and how they happened. Truly, had it not been for friends, I’d be a lot more worse for wear, the biggest hurdle being actually letting anyone in and admitting I wasn’t okay. I struggle with the balance of what I show to whom still, since most of the time it is easier in the long run not to admit when I’m struggling as it leads to more exhausting explanations and situations than just pretending I’m fine and figuring it out later when I’m home and alone. But here, I have been blown away.

Ballet has been my safe space since I first dared to take up classes at the age of 23, eleven (!!) years ago this past October. It’s been where I’ve gone to process my grief and trauma, giving myself the hour or two to leave everything out the door and reset, allowing myself a clearer head to process it all through. From car wrecks to friends deaths to everything in between, the studio is where I’ve gone. This, of course, became extremely complicated to navigate when I found myself too sick to continue anymore, and I clung to teaching until I physically couldn’t handle it anymore, which is also ironically when the world shut down. Honestly, having had to scale back so much in doses helped me handle the changes covid brought as I didn’t lose everything all at once as so many did; I had been processing each loss slowly as they came and was already mentally preparing for the final loss of giving up teaching when covid took it from me prematurely. Still, that’s only one loss of ballet instead of many at once. And now I find myself back in this place I have loved for so long, that has offered me safety and comfort in uncertainty, where I’ve met lovely people and carved a space for myself, but I’m here in new ways I never expected.

I thought coming into this that I knew what to expect, and work wise, I’d say my assumptions were spot on. What I didn’t expect was the onslaught of kindness I have experienced. Compliments literally every day, from so many different types of peopled–dance moms, dancers, board members, the public, even from our studio owners/artistic directs–and often. I’m so used to working and being in spaces where my kindness is used and abused, where I’m only important if people can get something from me, and once I’m out of sight I’m completely out of mind. I’m not a pushover–I’ve learned over the years not to be–however I’ve been in many work and volunteer spaces where I struggled to feel like I belonged or was seen. I was invisible, out of sight out of mind, only considered when they had some role that needed filled and not in ways that benefited me but instead drained me or requiring me to do things I was clueless about with little to no training and zero support.

I’ve told Ms. Munro how I didn’t realize that the way many of my superiors had treated me throughout my life wasn’t the way I should be treated until I came to teach at the studio. I was paid fairly, never forced or pressured to do things I couldn’t or wasn’t comfortable doing, and was considered in every decision that involved me. As my health declined, they accommodated that, and still do, making sure I have enough volunteers to help me take on the task of running the ballet office during Nutcracker season, checking in on me throughout. It’s taught me what I deserve, and to not accept anything less, which has set me up to take big risks with jobs that have lead to me being taken care of in my places of employment, with so little stress and zero fear; a stark contrast to some previous experiences. As a whole, I’m better for it.

And as if that isn’t enough, then you have the dance parents. We’ve all heard horror stories of dance moms, being divas and demanding and treating people terribly, but on the whole I have found the complete opposite. They thank me and compliment me, something I’m not used to. I go full awkward potato about 87% of the time I’m there because I don’t quite know what to do with compliments. I’ve finally got saying, “thank you” down, but I haven’t quite broken my compulsion of feeling I need to explain that I’m actually not that great. I’m trying.

Not only are these moms expressing their gratitude with words, but some even go as far as to bring me food and gifts and hand written cards, which are my personal brand of love language. Handwriting something tangible is an enduring and personal expression, so deeply “you,” and something I cherish and keep forever. It’s all so kind. Some of the mom’s have offered to help me, volunteering where they can, being a listening ear, offering solutions in the chaos, and some just meeting needs without me even asking. Truly, without them I wouldn’t have made it through this season. I’m eternally grateful and completely moved by their kindness.

It’s also been really nice getting to know some of the dance moms. For so long, I’ve been “friends with the kids” and most of the moms I knew had moved away and a majority of them I knew their kids better. It’s a weird dynamic since I am an adult, but truly to most of the kids I’m more of a bonus aunt or something, which is nice. But now, I’ve been becoming friends with the moms and its nice to be around people more my age, and not being the oldest for once. Its as though I feel a weight lifted by being around people older than me again, even if our life paths aren’t the same. They don’t look down on me for that, they accept it no questions, which I didn’t realize wasn’t always the case before until I was here and can see the difference.

The exhaustion of the season is definitely kicking in, and I’m sure when it’s all said and done I’ll have a little mini crash of sorts, though it will likely be more emotional than physical. I’m so grateful to get to be a part of this community and this ballet company, to be surrounded by such incredible and supportive people, to be making these memories and filling the story of my life with tales I will want to retell and, a bonus, ones that aren’t full of sadness as so much of my life seems to be. (so dramatic, I know.)

Here we go; ready or not, it’s show week, and I for one am thrilled.

“every ending is just a new beginning.”

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.

	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