My passion, my joy, my dearly beloved,
Today was one of those days. You know the kind. Today, it took but one "thank you" to know that my wholehearted best was not nearly enough. Despite my inexplicable efforts, today marked the 100th audition, and the 97th "thank you".
They told me it would be like this, 100 "thank you's" for every "yes". They told me that to progress would be slow and painful, sometimes bringing a suffocating sense of self-doubt. But I was also told that living the dream is much harder when you finally arrive. Well, I have essentially arrived, and my love, it is so much harder than I could have ever predicted. I bend, I break, I bleed. I struggle, I sweat, and days like today make it easy to conclude that the input far exceeds the output. It is for this reason that so many give up on you, dance, and understandably so. And yet, you have never given up on me, because for sixteen years you have been the love of my life, and all it took was a single plié at the age of three.
At the time, a simple bend of the knees felt incredibly complex, but what mattered more was how I felt: beautiful, elegant and entirely content. Nowadays, those pliés have grown to include techniques more rigorous than I could ever fathom, and though rare, I occasionally loose sight of how much you've given me. On one hand, I cannot count the number of muscles I've pulled, how many times I've nearly passed out from heat exhaustion. On the other, you have brought me to a place of great health, surrounded by those who share my love for you. You have given me a family, a home, and a life worth living. I could spend eternity expressing my love for you, and still not make my point. So for now, I'll say "thank you" and "I'm sorry". You are rarely a burden, and forever a solace.
This is what I must always remember; the electricity that crackles through my bones and down my spine when I feel the music, the tears that stream down my face when I let everything go, the magic of being someone else, and the beauty in being myself. Every moment we share is a blessing, whether it's arriving 60 minutes early to stretch in the studio, or choreographing while riding the train. I must remember that you are not a sport or dictionary definition. You were the best friend of my three year old self, and still are. To this day, taking ballet class spreads a smile across my face larger than my bun. That little girl has come so far and can do so much more, having finally realized her utmost passion and lifelong dream. So thank you dance, I love you dance, and everything in between <3