Center Stage

So guess what I realized last night? I am never going to be a ballerina. *gasp*!

Seriously, you guys. Ok, so I actually figured this out a long time ago. But at one point I really thought I might make a career out of dance somehow. I was probably about ten years old, but still. I remember my ballet teacher back then telling me that my legs were attached "wrong" at the hips- meaning my turnout would never, ever be what it was supposed to be. But I kept trying. Then a year or so later an orthopedic surgeon told me I should never dance in toeshoes- the bones in my feet were all jacked up (it was heredity- my dad and gramma also had jacked up feet). What did I do that same year? Yep- I went out and bought my first pair of toeshoes. And not to toot my own horn, but I was good at pointe. I think all my physical issues just made me try all that much harder at it.

Fast forward another 10 years or so to when I had to have surgery on my right foot to correct all the bones I messed up even further in ballet class...yeah, whoops. I suppose the doc was right.
Meh. And then to make matters worse, I broke my foot four years ago in a jazz class. Hit a slippery spot on the floor during a tour jete' and bam! Broken fifth metatarsal and 8 weeks on crutches.

So I'm taking ballet just for fun right now. I haven't taken it for several years- I can't remember if my last class was the summer before or after I broke my foot. Regardless, it's been a while. There are only a few people in my adult class, and two of them are really well trained. As soon as I saw the newest girl last night, my heart dropped a little. She just looked like a ballerina. Tall, thin, no hips to speak of, and totally graceful. Every move came completely effortlessly to her. Ballet always used to make me feel graceful...last night though, I felt a little bit like a frumpy, stumbling, clumsy troll. Especially next to Ms. Ballerina. She made me want to be her. And I'm sooooo not on her level. Not even close.

Sigh. Well, my pique' turns still kickass though. Even though I'm totally paying for them today with my cramped up calf muscles. Hopefully every week it'll start to come back to me a bit more and more. This blog is all about living the dream, right? So I may not ever be a real ballerina, but at least for an hour each week, I can pretend that dream is still a little bit alive.