I discovered the joy of ballet in mid January 2012. Believe it or not, I never knew adult ballet existed. In fact, the thought of ballet never crossed my mind since I was in first grade. I remember standing outside of the neighborhood ballet studio watching all of the little girls in their pink tutus run and jump across the floor. Boy, how I wished I were spinning and twirling along with them, but my mother couldn’t even afford a drop-in class at that time in our lives.
What led me to discover adult ballet was a random comment from a coworker. She noticed that I always stood in a fourth position (which, at the time, I had no idea what that even meant. Oblivious!). It was just naturally comfortable for me. So that day I did some heavy searching and stumbled upon The Louisville Ballet School. Turns out, they had beginning adult classes for a great price.
I remember my first class like it was yesterday… and how naive I was.
I walked into class (not knowing what to expect) wearing thigh-high leggings, a black leotard, and a scarf! You know, what you see on google image search. Let me tell you, as soon as I walked into class, I shriveled up to about the size of mouse (not to mention I was five minutes late already). So, you can imagine the looks I was getting as I interrupted class. I’m sure they were all wondering who I was by how I was dressed. 1: I either looked like an experienced dancer, or 2: looked like a girl who just finished watching the Black Swan. I’ll go with option two. I jumped in the back of the line hoping to follow the women in front of me, and guess what? The right-side combination just finished, which means it’s now time for the left-side - making me the head of the line. By that time, I was about the size of the dust bunnies in the corner.
Life as you know it was over! I was completely horrified. What was I to do?
The teacher went over the combinations full out, yelling, “okay everyone, first position, heels together and demi plie.”
DEMI PLIE? What the hell is a demi plie?
I vividly remember looking like a baked turkey, or as my teacher would call it, “The old lady carrying her purse pose.” Meaning elbows and wrists bent with a hunch back. Yup, that was me.
After about fifteen minutes of going with the flow, my fear had subsided and I felt like I was starting to get the hang of things. It’s very easy to forget your fear when you’re focusing on your feet and trying to make your heels touch all while holding your arms out at shoulder height. My brain can only handle so much.
The teacher must have smelled my perspiration desperation. She lingered on the side of the room where I was standing. Probably waiting for me to give her the “I have no idea what I am doing” look (which definitely happened countless times). She had no problem swooping over to save me from embarrassment. She had the knack for making the absolute beginner feel less like a bull in a china shop.
As class progressed, I started to fall in love with the complexity of ballet and the thought of trying to master it. My competitive side left me hungry for more. As soon as class was over, I couldn’t wait to plant myself in front of the computer and do as much research on ballet as my tiny brain could handle. From that day forward, I was obsessed with any and everything ballet related. I joined adult ballet forums, bought books on the art, watched every adult ballet video on youtube, and attended three ballet classes a week (along with ballet stretch, ballet fit, and pilates). It’s safe to say, I was a dancing maniac!
By the next year and a half, I was attending intermediate classes with an advanced class here and there. Don’t let that fool you! I am no prodigy… just super dedicated to becoming as professional as my body (and wallet) would allow me. Everything was going so well. I finally found something that was just for me, something to give my all to. However, just as I started to reach my peak, the most amazing thing happened…
I got pregnant! As you know, pregnancy doesn’t really leave room for improving technique. Ballet had to take the back seat as becoming a mother took precedence. After almost a year hiatus (with a class here and there), I gave birth to my beautiful daughter, Basil. My days consisted of two consecutive hours of sleep, being pooped and peed on, boobs transforming to the size of watermelons, and crying over my body that still looked like I was six months pregnant. With a schedule like that, who had time to even think of ballet? It’s sad to say I could feel my passion slowly dwindling. The butterfly feeling was no longer there.
What should I do? Hey, I know… let’s move to New York City. Thanks to a new job my husband accepted in The Big Apple, I now have a fresh start and a new opportunity to regain the love I once had for the beautiful art of ballet.
Basil is now seven months old and no longer poops on me! Oh, the things that excite a new mother. ha.
So what’s next? What should this blog be about?
This blog chronicle my new adventures in Brooklyn, New York while raising my daughter and finding my passion for dance again.
