Ballet

As far back as I can remember, I danced. Classical ballet, of course. When I was about 2 years old, my mom, like every other mom, put me in tights and a tutu and sent me off to ballet class. Once a week I would stand in front of a full-length mirror with a dozen other identically dressed girls and awkwardly copy the movements of the teacher. At the end of the year we would do the same thing on stage, except there was no mirror, and the teacher stood off to the side.
This is as far as most little girls get in ballet. Not me. I continued to dance on throughout the years. I grew to love it. It became so much more to me than just something my mom signed me up for. Gradually, I got better and advanced through the levels.
Sadly, classical ballet proved to be too rigorous for me. By the time I was a teenager, it seemed, ballet was no longer a hobby at the dance school I went to. It was training. Training for a career, who can get into this company, who can score this audition with this big school, and I didn't want that. But dance will always hold a special place in my heart. A way of expressing myself that I hope to teach my own daughter someday.