BE ADVISED: This post is long, possibly sappy, and some might even consider it cheesy. Just know that I wrote it at 12:00 am and it is the result of a mind allowed to roam free in an empty house. (Okay, Boston is here but he is asleep and Kloie is here but she never says much). Scott took Stephen camping and I have been gleefully running around the house doing all of those little things that take "just a second" but never actually get done. Somehow I wound up writting this totally random post. Mostly it is for my benefit, but if you want to learn about my inner workings you might like it too.... Read at your own risk.
I have a cardboard box stored in the closet with the words "dance stuff" written on the side. Such a simple phrase, "dance stuff." What this box contains is far from simple - to me it represents thousands of dollars spent, countless hours of grueling hard work, and more blood sweat and tears than you can imagine. It is what remains of the 16 years of my life that I devoted to dancing. If the average observer were to open the box they might see faded old leotards, a few pairs of ragged tights, and at least 30 pairs of old pointe shoes. A strange odor will waft through the air - not upleasant - just different. I love that smell - it is the smell of old leather, satin, dust, and reisin and if I close my eyes I can imagine I am there in the studio....
I am stretching on the dirty floor and listening to the music roll through the hot room. My friends are nearby and we chat as we begin to lace up our pointe shoes. This pair is getting soft - darn, there goes another 60 bucks. Another ballet class is about to start and I groan inwardly, "pointe class again??" I whine to Anna. I cap my toes with the lambswool toe pad, arrainge it carefully, and gently slide my foot into the shoe. There is that raw feeling, caused by the box of the shoe pinching and rubbing on my toes in the spots where they already have blisters. "How long is rehearsal after class?" "Another three hours." Connie calls us to the barre and begins the torture. As my muscles stretch and flex I feel more and more alive...
I really can't expain very well in words what ballet and dancing meant to me as I was growing up but it is a huge part of me still. Even though class and rehearsal was often grueling it was all worth the effort when I got to step out on stage. I was addicted to the overwhelming joy I felt as I danced for an audience. I would get goosebumps waiting in the wings and then when I was on stage it was like my heart was on fire. Dancing was my first true love! I can't even write about without tears in my eyes.
One day I had to make one of the hardest decisions of my life. I knew it was time to stop dancing so that I could finish up my degree in education. I cried about loosing dance as much or more than I cried over boyfriends. You can ask my roommates at the time - they probably remember.
I still dream about dancing. I dream that I am supposed to know some choreography but I don't know it and I am wearing a costume that I have never seen and the other dancers are pushing me out on stage telling me to "wing it." I wake up frustrated because I can't enjoy my performance! These dreams are telling me that there is a frustrated dancer hiding inside of me. I will go back someday...when money isn't an issue (ballet is a rather expensive dance form to pursue)...when I have time...when I loose a few more pounds.
I have to say that one of the things I miss the most from my dancing days is my svelt figure. I never thought it was svelt at the time because staring into a mirror all day while wearing form fitting clothing is not very good for one's self-image. Looking back, I realize what a fool I was! I was in great shape and could eat anything I wanted and not gain a pound. Unfortunately, the eating habits have remained and the metabolisim is gone...grrrrr.
I know that the choice to stop dancing at that time was right because of what it brought me. Ballet was so consuming that I rarely dated and was often too tired to socialize. I never had a serious boyfriend until after I stopped dancing. Who knows how long it would have taken me to meet Scott and get married? I loved dancing with all of my heart and it will always have a special place in my heart as my "first love." But now I choose to be a wife and mother. My sweet husband and sons bring me a mature joy and happiness that will be with me my whole life, whether I look good in a leotard or not.
8 comments:
You're adorable! I miss your dancing too. I loved living with a real ballerina (since I'm not graceful enough to be one myself.) I hope you do get back in to it someday :)
That was great cami- not corny at all! I am glad you posted it. I know that feeling, like you have kind of lost a part of your personality. IT is hard. I know it was so hard to give it up at BYU but we really did enjoy hanging out with you more when you stopped!
I loved this post. I never knew you as a dancer, but I'm sure you were amazing...It's interesting what parts of ourselves we semi-leave behind when we become wives, mothers, etc. But it's true-they are still in there somewhere...it's all about redefining ourselves with our new titles but trying to balance in our old titles too. I hope someday you can start taking classes again and get back into it!
AWesome and beautifully written! I will always remember that conversation we had walking the halls in HS about ballet, school, work, etc. You are awesome and an amazing dancer! Someday you will go back maybe you could teach =).
I loved reading this. I didn't dance nearly as long as you, but I can still associate with a lot of the same feelings. Ballet is especially consuming. But you will do it again someday. Thanks for sharing.
I remember when you and kesseli danced for our elem. schools talent show. I was very envious!
Cami,
I am so grateful for your beautiful description. It truly moved me. Reading it, I started to go off into my own little day dream of my own!
You, me, Ashley, Deena dancing around the stage together in our purple-skirted leotards (i think I'm imagining Path's Crossed), sitting backstage of Chandler Center in the dressing rooms, lining our eyes once more with sticky black eyeliner....
Not that I don't have opportunities now and that I'm not grateful to be able to do what I do. But those days were some of my happiest times in dance. (I keep sighing from nostalgia...that actually was probably my 3rd-4th time).
I guess, what I'm trying to say is--I am grateful for those memories. I'm grateful that you were a part of it!
You are a dancer at heart, that's for sure. I remember watching you dance and feeling absolute joy! And now, here you are a dedicated wife and mother and I still sense that joy. You're an inspiration! Okay. Now the waterworks are kicking in.
Love you!
What a NEAT post! Thanks for writing it and sharing it. I always wanted to do ballet, but realize my height wouldn't have been very good for it. I am excited for you to get back into it someday- it definitely sounds like it was/is a big part of your life and would be a lot of fun to get back into.
Post a Comment