I sat in the car a on a sunny spring afternoon, tired after a long day in the fourth grade. My mom drove, and as we passed through our neighborhood I looked out the window to see friends of mine playing outside.
“You do realize that if you want to join Company, there will be more of this not being able to play with your friends, right?” my mom told me.
“Yeah,” I said, turning my head from the window. “I know.”
That ride to ballet class has stuck in my head all these years. I had decided that I wanted to be in the local pre-professional ballet company. When my mom signed me up for dance class at the age of three she had no idea that ballet would take root so deeply in my mind. I would stare transfixed at the older girls, the ones with pointe shoes who could do no wrong. I wanted to be those girls, be part of that elite group. So Company it was.
It was never an easy path. I was too tall to be a party girl in the Nutcracker, my dream role at the time. My frequent growth spurts made turning nearly impossible. I wasn't as flexible as many of the other girls my age, and I had to fight hard in order to be put in the level most girls my age were in.
I first took two days a week of dance, then three, then four. In seventh grade I got my first pair of pointe shoes. I was ecstatic. My parents also divorced that year. Not as wonderful. Eighth grade I moved schools. More stress. More tears.
Ninth grade I came to high school. Six days a week of dance now. Ballet is my everything. Nothing can tear me from its grasp. I take master classes with professional dancers. I audition for summer intensives. I sew pairs and pairs of pointe shoes. I constantly use a resistance band on my feet which never seem strong enough. I pop Advil like candy. I laugh with my dance friends who have become my sisters. I stay up until midnight every night in an attempt to get my homework completed. I try to stay in touch with non-dance friends as they drift further and further away.
I've often wondered what my life would be like without dance. By now I just can’t imagine it. Sometimes it’s hell. But it is always worth it.