This is a picture of me when I danced with the Boston Ballet in the Nutcracker in 1968.
I started dancing when I was 6 years old and continued to dance through out my childhood and into college. As a college student I was graded for doing something that made me happy but my grades did not reflect my level of happiness. No matter how hard I tried, I was not an “A” dancer. I began feeling inadequate. I wasn’t tall enough, thin enough, and I felt clunky compared to my classmates. I stopped dancing for many years. My children were born and time went by. My art was my focus.
I went to graduate school, taught painting and drawing for 15 years while consistently painting.
About 10 years ago, I was at a book group and some of the women were talking about a dance/fitness class called Nia they were going the next day. “You loved to dance” they said, “you should go.” The thought of it brought back all of my insecurities. I mustard up the courage and went to the class. It had reopened my arms and my heart to movement. There is truly a thing called body memory. I felt as though I was home again in my body. I started going 2 to 3 days a week. I became a certified Nia instructor and taught my own classes.
When I dance, I sometimes close my eyes and the world disappears around me. I can be the graceful dancer. It is the place I go to fill my heart and rejuvenate my soul. No matter what my mood, when I step into my dancer skin I am whole.
I will dance until I am old.
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