Talking about Enya and dancing started me thinking more about my dancin' days.
I remember my ballet teacher rushing me up through the class levels and feeling pushed way too fast. One day I felt I couldn't take it anymore and left the class in tears, saying "This is too hard, I'm doing horribly!"
My teacher wrote me a note I still treasure today, in which she said she pushed me more than the other girls because she thought I had more potential.
But even that didn't quite prepare me for when she passed me up into the most advanced level she taught, in almost exactly three years after I started dancing. I was scared, the other girls in my class were my teachers in other dance classes. I was just twelve, and felt SO far out of my league.
That first show we did together, I like I was tied to the bumper of a car doing 90 mph on a windy road, just trying to catch up.
I think it was the costume that saved me. It had a pale blue satin bodice with the same color chiffon skirt. The moment I tried it on, I realized I LOOKED like a ballerina. A grown up one. A REAL one. For the first time, I looked in the mirror and didn't see a little girl. And when I put it on, it all came together and I felt suddenly like I belonged on the stage with the other girls.
I remember my ballet teacher rushing me up through the class levels and feeling pushed way too fast. One day I felt I couldn't take it anymore and left the class in tears, saying "This is too hard, I'm doing horribly!"
My teacher wrote me a note I still treasure today, in which she said she pushed me more than the other girls because she thought I had more potential.
But even that didn't quite prepare me for when she passed me up into the most advanced level she taught, in almost exactly three years after I started dancing. I was scared, the other girls in my class were my teachers in other dance classes. I was just twelve, and felt SO far out of my league.
That first show we did together, I like I was tied to the bumper of a car doing 90 mph on a windy road, just trying to catch up.
I think it was the costume that saved me. It had a pale blue satin bodice with the same color chiffon skirt. The moment I tried it on, I realized I LOOKED like a ballerina. A grown up one. A REAL one. For the first time, I looked in the mirror and didn't see a little girl. And when I put it on, it all came together and I felt suddenly like I belonged on the stage with the other girls.
1 Comments:
Cool blog.
And considering you've got a link on it to my blog, I thought it'd be rude not to drop by and say hi.
'Hi'
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