Dancing Queen  

I originally posted this story in September '09, but I wanted to share it again today for Theta Mom's blog hop today (1/28/10). I think it's a great example of how I've finally managed to find a little "me" time each week... even if I do end up spending it with a bunch of 13 year old girls.


I can distinctly remember the events that led up to my first ballet class. We had just moved into our new home (which is now the home my parents have lived in for 24 years and have just now updated the horrendous 1985 kitchen... but I digress). I was dancing along to the Pointer Sisters on the radio, spinning, twisting, and twirling on the silky smooth, brand new berber carpeting in the family room. I was three and a half years old, and my mom asked me if I'd like to take dance lessons. The rest is history. The next week, I was in the ballet/tap/tumbling combo class at DC School of Dance, where I continued my dancing "career" for the next 15 years.

During that time, I was a fairy in countless ballets, an alley cat, an actual cat from "Cats", Cleopatra's favorite "cat" (good gosh, I was more of a feline than Garfield for a while there!), and perhaps the quirkiest role of all time, a giraffe (that's for you, CAK). I have hordes of costumes in trunks and tubs, tucked safely away in my parents' basement...

...just in case G ever wants to be a hula girl or a blackbird on Halloween at some point down the road.

My passion for dance continued into high school, where I danced on my school's dance team, and then into college. That's where my eyes were opened into the realities of what dance really could be. Call it "big fish in a little pond" syndrome, but when I was growing up, I thought I was a good dancer. But as soon as I sent foot onto the rehearsal floor for my first class, I knew I was nothing. Nobody. It was a girl named Orly (who had no thighs-- seriously-- those legs were toothpick-skinny all the way from her ankles to her hips) who really brought my dancing dreams crashing down around me. She was as nice as nice could be, but man, could she dance circles around me and my small-town training.

Over time, I found my niche in the dancing world at college. I performed on stage dozens of times as a member of two performance groups on campus, and by my senior year, I was even teaching lessons and choreographing competition pieces at an off-campus dance school. When I went on to pursue my graduate degree at another school, I took my love of dance with me, and danced in a student-run group there. After graduating with my Masters, I even had the privilege to coach the university's dance team. To this day, that remains the highlight of my dancing days.

But once I got married and started my real career, it seemed there was no time for dancing. Between work, being a wife, and caring for our home and dog, the only dancing I got to do was during a round of "Dance Dance Revolution".

That is, until tonight.
About a month ago, I came up with the crazy idea that I would dance again. I'm not sure what possessed me (ok, I do-- So You Think You Can Dance; God help me, that show makes me want to get down!). It's been four years and one baby since I've put on my ballet slippers and leg warmers and hit the dance floor for a serious class, but that didn't stop me from seeking out a studio, signing up, and heading to my first class in what seemed like a lifetime.

Was I intimidated? That's putting it mildly. My instructor is a former Carolina Panthers cheerleader-- need I say more? My classmates are all teenagers. I've been dancing longer than most of these girls have even been alive. Was I the best? Heck no! I didn't expect to be. But I loved every minute of it. I loved stretching and twisting my body into positions it hasn't seen in years (hello, splits!). I loved running across the studio floor into a full leap. I loved the pirouettes (although, I hated to learn than even after a four year hiatus, I still can't spot).

I don't have any grand visions of going all Margot Fonteyn (yes, I had to Google the proper spelling of her name) or Bob Fosse on stage. I just wanted to take 45 minutes out of my jam-packed week to do something that has played such an integral role in my life. And it felt good.