I studied ballet for about six years when I was young. I loved it. I had a friend, Molly, who was older than me who took me under her wing and encouraged me. My level had to wear leotards and standard tu-tus. Her level wore beautiful sheer mid-calf angled skirts. I thought those rayon skirts were so graceful and looked forward to when I earned wearing them too.

The ballet slippers were supple in my hands with a specific sweet tangy scent of the pink leather. There was a promise of beauty in those slippers – of grace and an orchestrated story waiting to unfold.

There are photos of young me front and center in performances, and like any young ballerina, I dreamed of being Clara in The Nutcracker.

My mom and I moved to a different city, different state, mid-way through middle school. If I wanted to continue my lessons I had to ride my bicycle across two major streets into the neighboring city. This didn’t last long and thus my dancing days were over.

When I was 19 I tried taking lessons. I put on a leotard and felt awkward and clunky. After a few classes, I folded up the leotard and put it away.

Sometimes dreams don’t happen and if you revisit them the dream has changed enough to where it doesn’t exist anymore.

4 thoughts on “ballet

  1. Tomboy regrets? Either way I can’t see you being described as awkward and clunky if you can ride fast and smooth on a two-stroke twin.

  2. I like that. I can see how commanding a two-stroke takes a certain amount of grace.

    I’ve always been a tomboy, but have learned how to find a decent balance over the years. As much as I enjoyed ballet, it wasn’t something I wanted for the long term. It’s too regimented, too precise, and too stiff. I would have liked something more free and loose. I played soccer for many years too. That was awesome.

    Guess I’ve always been drawn towards the more rough and tumble. 🙂

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