I have grown to see life as a dance, one that is also full of many smaller dances. Dancing was a passion I arrived at very early in my life, practically from birth. When I was born, my feet were aligned in such a way that they were pointing out to either side of my body, like a ballerina in first position. Corrective measures were taken to align my feet facing forward while my young bones were the most malleable. Therefore, when I expressed a strong interest in taking ballet classes, at the age of four and loved it, the running family joke became that I “was born a dancer.”
Not long after this, our family moved to New Orleans for my father to pursue his art and music. We lived in the heart of the city where art, music and creative passions were infused into daily living. While steeped in this artistic environment dance was the focal point I chose. I was enrolled in a classical ballet school, and for the next ten years devoted myself to my dream of becoming a Prima Ballerina.
In the middle of high school, I was in a car accident that
essentially ended my dream of having a professional dance career. Over
time, my body healed but my life had been dramatically changed and my
heart was broken by the loss of this dream. I didn’t have a focus
anymore, no strong passion, or a life preserver to keep me afloat in the
emotional storms that blew through my life. Yet, I still survived, I
made do, I escaped, I stuffed my feelings in and got by the best way I
I didn’t know then was that I had been given a lifeline after all. This
was something that had never been completely absent and it was
something that I loved. I didn’t see it for what it was because I had
never practiced it as consistently or with as much passion as I had my
dancing. I also never thought to pursue it as a career path because I
doubted my talent and skills.