I have a six-year-old, a four-year-old and a two-month-old… and I did it. I signed myself up and I even showed up — to my first ballet class in 25 years. Dance was something I did for the first 18 years of my life and I loved it. When I went to college, I found myself standing outside of a dance class one day on my way to an art class I had to take as a prerequisite. I considered changing my major from Mass Communications to Dance for a second or two as I realized just how much I missed it. But, the next 20+ years happened and dance was not a part of it… until now. I saw a friend at a farmer’s market over the summer and she said she was back at it — she was even at Virginia Davis School of Dance where we started all those years ago. I wanted to start moving but the idea of going to the gym or on a run wasn’t appealing in the least… so I signed up. And now, every Saturday morning at 10, I’m at Virginia Davis. I’ve yet to get one routine correct and I’ve come to realize that humiliation and satisfaction can exist at the same time, but I love it. Ballet used to be cellular for me, but now I equate it to someone learning how to walk again. I can’t just do a glissade these days, I have to think about it step by step… slide foot out, kick it up, transfer weight… and so on. And don’t get me started on the flexibility factor. I find myself talking to my boys about practice, dedication, and being far from perfect at something you want to be good at. But I’m here to tell you that it’s worth it. Sooo worth it. I guess that would make my advice about doing something out of your comfort zone, be… DO IT!
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