I can't put into words how much I needed to read this today.
Backstory: My last year of competitive dance was 2020, when the world shut down. That summer, after my senior season was cut short, I moved across the country to start college. This past spring I've graduated college and I have been yearning for the marley floor, and the tight bun, and the "chase" of this "first love". You worded this so beautifully.. it resonated with the bittersweet feeling of "once a dancer, always a dancer", and everything that comes with it (including the guilt of leading a new life without it, but ultimately never leaving it behind for too long). as someone who literally just questioned where her ballet tights were this past weekend (they're across the country, itching to fly to where I am now), thank you. thank you. thank you.
oh my sweet friend. i remember when lockdown started (which ended my college dance career in the spring of my senior year), my dance friends and i kept saying how lucky we were to not lose OUR senior year of competitive/studio dance. those moments of final performances together were so special and foundational to who we are as dancers, friends, and women today; i’m so sorry that was taken from you. i hope your tights make it to where you are and you come back to class; it sounds like your heart wants it ❤️ thank you for reading riley!
The timing of this piece couldn't have been better! I've recently gone back to ballet classes at the age of 27 after a decade away from it but haven't met anyone else in the same situation. When you wrote about that second puberty, I felt that in my bones for real (my new teacher keeps telling me not to stick my butt out but I'm pretty sure that's just...where my butt exists now...) - anyway loved this piece! You describe the audition room so well🥲
omg! welcome back to ballet with me, friend! this is so fucking relatable: i remember being 17-18 and it finally occurring to me that my butt, genuinely, could not be tucked in. my shoulders (uneven from scoliosis) also CANNOT be “evened” without great effort and pain. ballet is such a weird, unforgiving beast (that we all clearly love anyway!!!)
I am so happy I read this! you have perfectly encapsulated the feeling of leaving dance behind, yet it staying with you forever. I hope I return to my tights and leotard one day :)
This was beautiful. I stopped dancing five years ago when I first decided to study abroad and, even though I tried to go back, it's impossible not to wonder how my life would be if I had never stopped.
I spent a lot of childhood afternoons swinging my heels as my sister practiced at the ballet school. Performances of the Nutcracker and Sleeping Beauty every year. Then, at 18 years old, her teacher holder to quit, as she was too big. It was devastating for her. But then, she took her revenge by founding the women's fencing team at Cal Berkeley. My sister is one of my heroes. I still can't handle The Nutcracker.
I can't put into words how much I needed to read this today.
Backstory: My last year of competitive dance was 2020, when the world shut down. That summer, after my senior season was cut short, I moved across the country to start college. This past spring I've graduated college and I have been yearning for the marley floor, and the tight bun, and the "chase" of this "first love". You worded this so beautifully.. it resonated with the bittersweet feeling of "once a dancer, always a dancer", and everything that comes with it (including the guilt of leading a new life without it, but ultimately never leaving it behind for too long). as someone who literally just questioned where her ballet tights were this past weekend (they're across the country, itching to fly to where I am now), thank you. thank you. thank you.
oh my sweet friend. i remember when lockdown started (which ended my college dance career in the spring of my senior year), my dance friends and i kept saying how lucky we were to not lose OUR senior year of competitive/studio dance. those moments of final performances together were so special and foundational to who we are as dancers, friends, and women today; i’m so sorry that was taken from you. i hope your tights make it to where you are and you come back to class; it sounds like your heart wants it ❤️ thank you for reading riley!
This is haunting in such a beautiful way!
thank you!!!! you picked up the exact vibe I was going for <3
The description of that room and the girls in there... Wow!!
The timing of this piece couldn't have been better! I've recently gone back to ballet classes at the age of 27 after a decade away from it but haven't met anyone else in the same situation. When you wrote about that second puberty, I felt that in my bones for real (my new teacher keeps telling me not to stick my butt out but I'm pretty sure that's just...where my butt exists now...) - anyway loved this piece! You describe the audition room so well🥲
omg! welcome back to ballet with me, friend! this is so fucking relatable: i remember being 17-18 and it finally occurring to me that my butt, genuinely, could not be tucked in. my shoulders (uneven from scoliosis) also CANNOT be “evened” without great effort and pain. ballet is such a weird, unforgiving beast (that we all clearly love anyway!!!)
Beautiful piece! Really hits close 💕
This was such an enchanting read 💗
I am so happy I read this! you have perfectly encapsulated the feeling of leaving dance behind, yet it staying with you forever. I hope I return to my tights and leotard one day :)
keep rereading it! just so relatable and gorg🥲
This was beautiful. I stopped dancing five years ago when I first decided to study abroad and, even though I tried to go back, it's impossible not to wonder how my life would be if I had never stopped.
One day I, too, will be auditioning again.
I spent a lot of childhood afternoons swinging my heels as my sister practiced at the ballet school. Performances of the Nutcracker and Sleeping Beauty every year. Then, at 18 years old, her teacher holder to quit, as she was too big. It was devastating for her. But then, she took her revenge by founding the women's fencing team at Cal Berkeley. My sister is one of my heroes. I still can't handle The Nutcracker.