Being a Ballerina isn't's the tights

by Tracy

I wanted to be a ballerina so bad when I was five. I finally convinced my mom to let me try. She warned me that I would be with other children and the music might be loud but most important I had to behave. I assured her that I would be on my best behavior and I just knew I could do it. I don’t have to tell you that I had no sense of left or right or direction for that matter but I was going to do what it took.

As the day of class got closer my mom brought to me the clothes I would have to wear to class. I remember vividly as she laid the leotard and…queue scary music…the TIGHTS on my bed. “What are those?” I asked defensively. She told me that’s what I would have to wear or I couldn’t dance. She left me alone in my room to contemplate this new twist of events. I must have stared at those tights for a good hour. Not only would they touch every part of my leg they had seams every where.

After much thought I ran to my mom’s room and asked her if I could wait and put them on right before class. She knew how much trouble clothes were for me and told me no, I would have to put them on and wear them to class. I went back to my room defeated. I can do this I thought; after all I am a dancer. So the day of class arrived and after much debate

with my dancer self versus my SPD self I got the tights on. You can imagine my dismay when I realize the dang leotard isn’t much better. I walk out much like a gorilla would because I don’t want my body to touch any other part of my body.

Just when I think it can’t get any worse we get into the hot car and my behind and legs have to touch the seat. Great. Once I get to class it will get better my dancer self tells my SPD self and I continue on. Class begins and I thought I’m doing great I’m ignoring the annoying children and paying attention to my teacher, yes I am meant to be a dancer. We practiced pointing our toes, uncomfortable but doable. But then we had to actually move. I remember thinking the teacher was nuts when she wanted me to stand in first position with my legs touching each other so I just stood there kinda hunched over.

So she came over and had the nerve to grab my already over stimulated leg. I didn’t mean to kick her but I did. As she glared at me I said “At least my toes were pointed.” I could hear my mom laugh over the music. That was my short career as a dancer. It wasn’t so funny then but it sure makes me smile now. Ironically my grown daughter is a National Dance Champion and is currently in Spain dancing on a cruise ship. As tough as it gets I am a firm believer that humor gets you through.

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Nov 02, 2011
by: Anonymous

Thanks for the story and yes, much needed humor.
My 5 yr old son will, I'm sure, have a few such stories of his own when hes older and more eloquent with his words. He's got humor on his side and being an SPD kiddo I know he feels those same things - that is he feels EVERYTHING.
Thanks again for sharing!

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