I am doing just fine, fine & dandy at my adult ballet classes until…a fresh faced young classically trained dancer joins our class yesterday. Shit. Then I am automatically jealous of everything. Her epaulemant is perfect, everything and I mean everything is over the top. 

I’m trying to hammer out the forty degages that were just asked and my teacher makes a comment about me not coming to class as much, but she’s sure I can keep up, as I feel my legs bending and doing all things there are not supposed to do.

*I have been working nights (already of which I am quite burned out) and missing class due to exhaustion.*

Needless to say in class I unraveled down to the tiniest size of a babushka doll because this girl was better than me. And by no means, am I the best. But I do study, practice and train in my free time.

But I can’t even begin to compete with this girl. So I remember something I’ve been working on. Space. Take up more space. So every movement I begin to reach towards the ceiling. Extend all the way out from the spine. There is all this space and as a dancer, I always forget. This keeps me occupied the rest of class. Thank goodness. 

Why, as a dancer, are adult dancers given less preference? So what if we didn’t start at five, So what if we are not going to be “stars” on stages at the Royal Ballet by next fall?

There seems to be an entire generation of dancers that have grown up dancing ballet, they can execute all movements and techniques, they have the deepest second positions, the highest archers, the perfect lines…yet….they are like robots, perfect robots. 

I used to run into the pianist of my former classes at the local coffee shop. Imagine a school full of perfect SUVS and expensive cars and wildeyed dance moms all pushing and pushing and pushing. This was my former dance school. He said he was so miserable playing for the school & company dancers that he would start to fall asleep during classes (thus why he was at the coffee shop). 

He said although we were adult dancers, our class was engaging. I laughed because I never thought I WOULD HEAR THAT IN A MILLION YEARS. I do recall laughing a lot in class now that I think of it.

I work & work and with my money, after bills, I come to class. And in class I am alive and in love and filled with joy. Even if I’m sick, broke, lethargic and run down. I show up. So I guess the point of this is to show up and try your best, because there will always be someone there better, some “Becky With The Good Hair” but maybe they are the push you need to do better.

A for Effort