When I was eight or nine years old, I learned a lesson. It came via ballet class, like so many of my early life lessons.
I started taking ballet when I was four, added jazz at five and tap at six. From the start, there were milestones we were taught to look forward to: first tutu, first recital, first performance in The Nutcracker, going en pointe, etc. Continue reading
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I have no class.
No fitness class, that is.
I have them in that I belong to a gym. I just skip them.
Why? I think it started as a rebellion against the years – fourteen years – rigorous, time-consuming dance study I did.
By high school, I averaged six classes per week, spread over the course of three days. Mostly ballet including pointe but also jazz, tap and helping with younger kids’ classes. In the month leading up to a performance, the time commitment would typically double.
When I was a kid, I desperately wanted a dog. My mother’s mother Nana lived with us though. Well, technically we lived with her but that’s another story.
Dad loved dogs, still does, and supported my interest in having one, but Nana either hated dogs or was afraid of them. Mom told me the latter.
“One day when Nana no longer lives with us, Daddy and I will get you a puppy.”
She didn’t wink or elbow me in the ribs while saying it, but the message was clear: when Nana died, I’d get my dog. Even though I was only five or six at the time, wanting a puppy became inextricably linked with a guilty feeling: “you want Nana to DIE!” I tried hard not to think about puppies. Continue reading
My childhood home is just shy of a shrine to the old me. I never really gave it much thought because as an only child, who else would be featured on my parents’ walls for decades? Surely not, like, art.
When I visited for Christmas, I snapped these photos thinking they’d be good for #TBT on Instagram.
When I shared these pics on Instagram and Facebook, I expected giggles. Instead I had a LOT of people comment that they either didn’t know I danced or that they didn’t realize that I really danced. They were surprised.
So yes. A long time ago, I used to dance. A whole lot. And not just ballet. Also tap (so fun and still a good party trick) and jazz. This wonderful woman was one of my teachers.
I quit studying dance cold turkey when I left for college at seventeen years old. Part of it was due to injuries, but mostly I was over the time commitment dance required through the years and ready to, well, goof off.
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