(no subject)
Watching Phantom the other day made me miss being a dancer... so today I pulled out my pointe shoes for the first time in years. Putting them on is still second nature to me. I went on auto-pilot. No fumbling on how to lace them up or get them where they fit comfortably. It was perfect on the first try.
However, I wasn't confident enough in my muscles to just try it out, so I went into my bathroom and did ballet moves while holding onto the counter. *whew* Glad I did. Regardless of the fact that my legs are still pretty much all muscle, it's not enough to hold myself up securely enough. Your legs needs to be 100% muscle and your balance has to be impecible to be able to hold yourself up. Given that it's been...six years since I quit pointe, I definitely couldn't just pick it right back up. It'd be at least a year of training I think before I could do it again.
So, since I was in that mood, I pulled out my old dance tapes. Hadn't watched them in years... so far I've watched '98-'01. I've come to the conclusion that the majority of my body issues came from taking dance. I'm looking back at these videos and remembering how I always felt gigantic and self-conscious and hated the costumes they always chose... and in hindsight, I realize that I was silly. Yes, I was bigger than most of the other girls. But most of the other girls looked pre-pubescent because they took 15-plus hours of dance lessons each week, while I was taking a modest 3-4. I, however, looked human. And besides, full-spandex body suits don't look good on anyone that doesn't have the body of a 10-year-old.
Plus, then all the dance-studio politics and the emotions with that came rushing back. All the anger and frustration I felt towards the studio owner (which eventually led to me ending my dance career) just come surging back, especially watching the videos now. My main frustration was that after ten years at the dance studio, she wouldn't let me into the highest group because I never took jazz. Yet, she would stick me in the finale numbers with the highest group because she needed me, and I was obviously just as good, if not better, than most of the girls in there. Actually, in the 2001 video I'm better than half the girls in it.
But with all the negative feelings left due to the owner, there are also tons of amazing memories and feelings that come back. Leaving the dance studio was one of the toughest decisions for me, and in a way, tougher than even leaving high school. I've kept in touch with all of my high school friends... I've only seen one of my dance friends since I left it (my partner in crime Gaelissa goes to UF and is going to be on Preview staff with Dustin this summer). That's tough. I grew up with a large chunk of those girls, and I'll never see them again, or know where they ended up.
I'm tempted to try to make it to the recital next year, but I'm not sure WHERE it will be since the cultural center in Punta Gorda got messed up in Charley. But my tap students were in early middle school back then, which means they should be at the right age to be in the highest group... and I'd like to see how many stayed in. Those kids meant a lot to me... especially watching Allison get soooo excited when I sold her my old tap shoes for $5. Not because they were the "older-girl tap shoes", but because they had once been mine. That's a pretty powerful moment, to realize that you mean that much to someone.
Most notably, I really, really want to know what's happened to Mr. Tex. He was my 80-something-year-old tap teacher, who retired the same year I quit. After six years of taking lessons from him, we shared a very special bond and he, at least, recognized how good I was, regardless of the fact that I couldn't make the drive to Port Charlotte every damn day of the week (because that's the only way the owner really appreciated you). I think he moved back to Texas, but I don't even know if he's still alive. He was really the one that made me the performer I am (even though it's useless to me now since I can't find any place in Gainesville to take lessons) and I will always be grateful.
Here's to ten years of training at Stars of Tomorrow dance studio, three years of a dance hiatus (not counting Winterguard), and a resolution to find some frickin' way to start dancing again.
However, I wasn't confident enough in my muscles to just try it out, so I went into my bathroom and did ballet moves while holding onto the counter. *whew* Glad I did. Regardless of the fact that my legs are still pretty much all muscle, it's not enough to hold myself up securely enough. Your legs needs to be 100% muscle and your balance has to be impecible to be able to hold yourself up. Given that it's been...six years since I quit pointe, I definitely couldn't just pick it right back up. It'd be at least a year of training I think before I could do it again.
So, since I was in that mood, I pulled out my old dance tapes. Hadn't watched them in years... so far I've watched '98-'01. I've come to the conclusion that the majority of my body issues came from taking dance. I'm looking back at these videos and remembering how I always felt gigantic and self-conscious and hated the costumes they always chose... and in hindsight, I realize that I was silly. Yes, I was bigger than most of the other girls. But most of the other girls looked pre-pubescent because they took 15-plus hours of dance lessons each week, while I was taking a modest 3-4. I, however, looked human. And besides, full-spandex body suits don't look good on anyone that doesn't have the body of a 10-year-old.
Plus, then all the dance-studio politics and the emotions with that came rushing back. All the anger and frustration I felt towards the studio owner (which eventually led to me ending my dance career) just come surging back, especially watching the videos now. My main frustration was that after ten years at the dance studio, she wouldn't let me into the highest group because I never took jazz. Yet, she would stick me in the finale numbers with the highest group because she needed me, and I was obviously just as good, if not better, than most of the girls in there. Actually, in the 2001 video I'm better than half the girls in it.
But with all the negative feelings left due to the owner, there are also tons of amazing memories and feelings that come back. Leaving the dance studio was one of the toughest decisions for me, and in a way, tougher than even leaving high school. I've kept in touch with all of my high school friends... I've only seen one of my dance friends since I left it (my partner in crime Gaelissa goes to UF and is going to be on Preview staff with Dustin this summer). That's tough. I grew up with a large chunk of those girls, and I'll never see them again, or know where they ended up.
I'm tempted to try to make it to the recital next year, but I'm not sure WHERE it will be since the cultural center in Punta Gorda got messed up in Charley. But my tap students were in early middle school back then, which means they should be at the right age to be in the highest group... and I'd like to see how many stayed in. Those kids meant a lot to me... especially watching Allison get soooo excited when I sold her my old tap shoes for $5. Not because they were the "older-girl tap shoes", but because they had once been mine. That's a pretty powerful moment, to realize that you mean that much to someone.
Most notably, I really, really want to know what's happened to Mr. Tex. He was my 80-something-year-old tap teacher, who retired the same year I quit. After six years of taking lessons from him, we shared a very special bond and he, at least, recognized how good I was, regardless of the fact that I couldn't make the drive to Port Charlotte every damn day of the week (because that's the only way the owner really appreciated you). I think he moved back to Texas, but I don't even know if he's still alive. He was really the one that made me the performer I am (even though it's useless to me now since I can't find any place in Gainesville to take lessons) and I will always be grateful.
Here's to ten years of training at Stars of Tomorrow dance studio, three years of a dance hiatus (not counting Winterguard), and a resolution to find some frickin' way to start dancing again.