Why I Dance

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Okay, I realize that I haven’t posted anything in many months, but I have kept up writing. Just not online. I am in the middle of a journal that I started at the beginning of summer that tells of my daily adventures and thoughts. Right now I’m sitting down and transferring some of my entries into blog posts, not all, not even all that many, just some that I want to share with you guys.

IMG_3369Why do I dance? This was a question on the last day of dance camp during dinner when we didn’t have any tables and just ate on the floor. I dance for many reasons, much more than just because it is fun. All of us at camp (and this camp is for dancers only pre-point and up) had pretty similar ideas of why we dance, though it was still nice to hear everyone say it in their own words, some very poetic and beautiful, while others were more straight forward and simple, but just as true. Without wanting to be too wordy or take too long I said, “Dance has always been part of my life , and one of my favorite parts. It is also nice to come to class every time knowing that everyone has the same passion for dance as I do.” A few years ago if you were to ask me which I would choose, ballet or swimming, if I could only have one, which I would choose, I would have a really hard time choosing. Now? Now it would be very easy, I would easily choose ballet.

Ballet has always provided so much relief and joy to my life. Yeah, swimming is fun and has been a big part in my life, but it has gotten difficult. Not the actual sport, but the amount of disappointment that has come from it this past year. I have a few good friends on swim team, I love to cheer on my team mates (especially the little ones), and it is a great source of exercise, but I just do not hold the same amount of passion for it as I do for dance. I find it too easy to push my self down or beat myself up. When I swim and I don’t drop time I feel pretty bad or when I look at times from a 14-year-old team-mate, I also don’t feel that great about my swimming. Sure, this team-mate is really tall, has a swimmer’s body, and swims seriously all year round. All I can see when I look at her times is that her times are a lot faster than mine. Ballet is just so different.

Dance has always been a part of my life and one of my favorite parts. When one class ends I am already really excited about the next one. When I am having a bad day, but I step into our little studio for class all of troubles and worries melt away. All that matters is my dancing. Truly I am blest to have so many families (biological, school, swimming, dancing, and church) and to have a home away from home at the ballet studio. When ever I stand in there I think back to when I was little and of all the fun memories that I’ve had in that room. Some of my earliest memories are even of me dancing somewhere. One thing that really makes it so wonderful is that at this age we really are all family. We care each other and never judge one another. At most we laugh with them, never at. It is so great to go to a place where everyone shares the same passion as me for something. I could never imagine my life without dance. My best guess is that it would be dull and I would feel like a part of me is missing, though I hope to never find out.

Ballet, unlike swimming, is very easy for me to pick myself up in. I look at the older girls and see that they are better than me, but for what ever reason I can see that it is because they are older and have had more training, though I just can’t do that in swimming.  Someone might have faster turns, but maybe I have a cleaner extensions.  It helps that there is no number that in the end I can pointe back to that shows who is better.

I am a bunhead through and through. I enjoy pink, I love sparkles, and get very exited about new tutus. My toes are pointed whenever they leave the ground. Pointe is always spelled with an e. I run through choreography with my hands. The empty hallways at school are a perfect place to practice new routines or move. Boring classes are a time to do toe-strengthening exercises. And my feet are always turned out. I still fantasize about becoming a professional ballerina (though I hate the word). I’m a bunhead through and through and proud of it, and I don’t care who knows it.

 

 

 

What do you think?