I dance ballet and some latin dance. These excerpts are about the struggle of finding the "balance" of being an adult and having a strenous full time (and expensive) hobby.

Today I woke up completely feeling like shit. But I forced myself to get in the cold shower, go get some black coffee, and take the city bus down to the ballet school.

Afterall, I hadn’t danced in so long, I was deadset on going.

The school was just as beautiful as I remember. There were boxes of brilliant gold garland, Christmas trees, glittery snowflakes and sparkly costumes everywhere as the school was getting ready for the Nutcracker season. All the company dancers were nowhere in sight, I’m sure they were all in rehearsal until the big day. 

A few people ran around frantically, trying to organize everything. 

I headed up to studio six, and laid motionless in my hoodie and sweatpants of the ground, trying to feel better and trying to lose the nervousness of being gone for so long. 

Class started and I took a deep breath, as the piano rang out into my reflection in the mirror. My legs were trembling, my balance was off, and a looked a bit like Casper the ghost as a struggled to pretend I wasn’t getting sick and that I hadn’t danced in over a year. 

My muscle memory kicked in as the steps were demonstrated:

pas de cheval, develope, degage, degage,  

as I struggled to not look winded.

But 50 minutes into class I was seeing double, so I decided that was enough as I excused myself without reason. I pulled on my sweats, and beanie and headed out into the winter air.

I am so happy to be back dancing again.