"Oh I used to take ballet." "My daughter-granddaughter-goddaughter-niece takes ballet." "I wish I'd stuck with it" "I wasn't graceful-good enough."I never knew how to answer.
I felt the same way.
"She's a ballerina."
What does that make you think of? Pink tutus? Elegant dancers? Graceful movement?
I'll tell you what it makes me think of:
Physical pain. Emotional inadequacy. Psychological trauma.
I used to shove my ballet pictures in front of everyone I met, desperately thirsty for a few droplets of affirmation.
My bible-study group never thought I'd stop talking about the trauma in Carlisle. Until I finally did.
I hid. I removed all my dance photos from Facebook. I stopped talking about my dreams for dance, except in a "woe-be-gone, whistful-whiny" sort of way.
Ballet became something I abandoned. It hurt too much to think about going back.
And now? I'm afraid.Sitting across from the fear of inadequacy, the fear of excellence remains. If I get good enough to be amazing - and I will - I'll have to face those reactions again. The unspoken jealousy.
Keyword: I willGod told me to start dancing when I was seven. His anointing was evident at fourteen. My first dance-film was produced as I turned twenty one. This month I turn twenty eight.
I don't know how to move forward. All I know is I cannot turn back.
Photo by Randy Choura