I went to what used to be the gospel festival tonight. I had such an amazing time. I felt joyful and emotional. I had trouble singing through the emotion, through the energy.
I saw Kathy Meyers, a dance teacher I so greatly admire, tonight. I talked to her after and she wants her dancers to dance to the choir at the Kroc Center. There were so many memories. Memories of dance. The smell of the studio and office were overwhelming. Memories of the passion of dance. Memories of injury, and heartache, and heartbreak. I stood in the back of the quiet theater after, almost everyone gone, and remembered. Long nights at Summerstock locking up, strikes, just staring at the chairs. Then going to the back and staring at the stage. What will it be today?
I asked Kathy if she knew of an off-campus place to get dancing like hers. She said I should take a class credit/no-credit but I said I don’t want to. (sigh)
Being in a dance class makes me cry. Clogging and tap are different but full-body dance. It simply makes me sad. Because I know what it’s like to be at the top, the very top, and watch it all come crashing down. When I look at myself in a studio mirror I don’t like what I see. I hate it. I know there is beauty inside me, but I can’t seem to find it. And to try and hate myself and my body so much very quietly next to girls who have everything I wanted, or are close to it, is devastating. I can’t. Or I haven’t been able to wrap my mind around doing it again.
I can’t stop crying tonight. I can imagine myself in a studio staring at the floor. I just can’t look in the mirror. Please, God. Don’t make me look in the mirror… I don’t even own a full-length mirror.
I’ve recently lost 30lbs and I haven’t tried out dancing yet. I’m scared. And I hate being that one person that just doesn’t quite fit in – who’s not there for credit or to be a dance major, who’s not a size 2, and hates Marley floors.
I desperately want to dance but I’m scared – that I won’t be able to, and that I will. The not being able is not quite rational. I don’t believe I will ever fully lose my ability and desire to move passionately and dance. The fear that I can because I don’t want to lose that again. I am fighting with my body and I’m fighting with me. Some days I wake up and I literally can’t move. I can’t stand up through all of choir. My feet swell almost every day and I have trouble just carrying my purse. But I want to dance so desperately. And I ask myself have I lost that chance? Have I chosen one too many times not to take this class, not to do that audition? There are valid reasons why I haven’t, but is it too late?
My mom is convinced she’s done something to piss me off. I don’t think she’ll ever learn it’s not always about her and that sometimes I just want to be alone…
So I cry. And then I stop crying. And I don’t watch “So You Think You Can Dance” or go to dance shows or try taking a class. Simply put, I’m heartbroken, terrified.
I think I’ve made a pretty good life for myself, based on the circumstances. I try to create change and make a difference, to be great. But there will always be something missing without dance, a part of me that makes the other ones work just right. That piece of my soul that says it’s okay to feel and Saturday at 3 I will feel angry beautifully for 3 minutes, I will a tell a story with my body. (Long deep breath…)