First blog post in the new house! Yay!
Yes, I’m still alive, but I realize it’s been a bit since I last posted. Well, after yesterday I finally have something to write about.
It was kind of a rough day. One of those days, if you’ve ever had one, where I just woke up feeling low about being me. A low self-esteem day. No particular reason. No event that triggered it. But for whatever reason, it just hit me. To the point that I was tearing up on my way into work.
But before I went in to work and realized how low I was really feeling, I had a lesson with Ivan. He had absolutely nothing to do with this foul mood. In fact, he provided some of the laughter I experienced during those 24 hours. Yes, it’s true. Even on an emotionally low day, there are moments of joy to be found.
So Ivan was just back from the Crystal Ball in Chicago where he danced with my friend Katie and another student, and of course Miss Marieta. They placed 3rd in Professional Open American Rhythm, which is awesome, and Ivan felt like he danced really well. This was an interesting comment because usually he focuses (like a lot of us perfectionist-prone dancers) on what was lacking, what could have been better. I’m so proud of Ivan (and Marieta too) for doing such great work on their “mental problems.” If you don’t know what I’m referring to, you can read about it here. Anyways, they are really coming to think like the champions I know they are. It will be exciting to watch what happens over the next couple of competitions.
So Ivan seems pretty excited to be going to Desert Classic with me. I know it is going to be an absolute blast. I’ve already decided. We are going to have fun, enjoy ourselves, and dance amazing. It’s just my vision of what is going to happen. I’m working on practicing owning my space, doing the (what feels like) over-the-top facial expressions, practicing the presentation and bow/curtsey portion of the performance, and fixing what technical details I can correct in the next 4 weeks. It would feel amazing to just act as if I owned the dance floor! Which, is a challenge, I tell you! I have a hard time doing it with Ivan, and also in Inna’s group class.
Anyways, so Ivan was on a high from the competition and we began.
Oh arm styling, I’ve mentioned you before, and I will mention you again. And Ivan really picked up on it that morning as well. Doing under arm turns in Rumba, I did my usual arm and Ivan stopped me.
It was weird. He kind of enunciated the question to me more clearly than I’ve ever heard him speak. “Can you please be a little more elegant…” The “t” particularly popped, like a single drumbeat. “And not so heil Hitler.”
Well, that gives the visual. I was thrusting my arm out in a straight line rather than developing it throughout the entire arm, using all my muscles and joints to unfold it. But seriously, only a comment you’d hear from Ivan.
Later in the Waltz, I was reaching upwards on a side sway and I heard, “Hit the balls!”
“Hit the balls.” Ivan punched one of the beach balls hanging from the ceiling at the studio where we’ve been practicing. He so totally knows he’s using a double entendre. Yes, it was an admonition to reach upwards to my very limit, but really?
Then on the Waltz, I groaned, grunted. Why? The freaking effort it takes to move! I takes so much energy! It feels exhausting. Maybe this was the straw that broke the camel’s back in terms of breaking the damn of emotion that was coming toward me on the ride to work. I am sick and tired of it feeling like such a Herculean effort to dance. When is it not going to feel like this anymore, I wonder? There was a time in my life when I felt strong. Yes, I got out of breath. Yes, my muscles burned. But underneath that, I felt powerful. I don’t feel like that at my current weight. And it sucks. And I’m tired of whining about it. And I’m on day 3 of my eating plan. And, simply, I’m tired of being at war with my body. I’m tired of all the self-hate.
Anyways, so I grunted, a grunt containing all of that angst, frustration, anger, in it, and Ivan was like, “How you have a man in you?”
Yeah…that’s graceful and elegant like I should be in a Waltz….not!
So that started me giggling. Uncontrollably. To the point that I bent forward.
“Are you fart?”
To translate Ivan’s Bulgarian English, he was asking me if I had farted and that was why I was losing it in the huge guffaw.
“No! I didn’t fart!” I exclaimed, after I caught my breath.
Well, anyways, we ended the lesson and Ivan was talking up Desert Classic and saying things like “I so excited to going with you! I want to dance with you all day!” I mean, to hear your teacher tell you things like that, how could you have a bad day?
Oh, I managed.
It’s a dark place, my mind sometimes. Also, there are the painful realities of what I’ve done to my body. And the grief I feel for the loss of what could have been if I had not given up dancing, if I had found ballroom sooner, if I had stuck to my diet 9 months ago. You know, the futile, negative, voice, blah, blah, blah. It hurts. And it doesn’t change anything. And in just a few weeks I’ll be at a competition. In a body I’m not thrilled about.
So I made my way to the car and fell a little bit to pieces.
I bulldozed through work and headed home. Convinced the best plan was to come home, prepare my food for the next day, and crawl into bed to fall asleep by 7:30 and start a new day as soon as possible, I was in the middle of packing up my last food container when I got a text.
You know, sometimes God intervenes in our lives. Yesterday it was in the form of a text message from my friend Colette.
*Bleep* *Bleep* I heard the ringer on my cell phone.
“Are you coming to Latin?”
Oh, I was aware it was a Tuesday. I was aware Inna’s butt-kicker was going to start in about 20 minutes.
I texted back:
“I’m not decided. Feel fat. Sluggish.”
She texted back:
“AW HELL NO YOU DIDN’T JUST SAY THE F WORD!”
Well, it was enough of a nudge to go to class. I knew I’d be late, but they always seem to start a few minutes late. And, I didn’t have any clean dance clothes, so it was black leggings and my XXL Boston t-shirt. It was that or not go. Not a cute outfit by any means, but functional I suppose. You know, only one option had any chance of getting me closer to the dancer and body I want to be and have. Painful as it was, and as much as I liked (on some level) my pity-party (as my husband called it), I knew I’d feel better if I went. But still, part of me wanted to not go. Crumbling into a limp lump in bed did seem somewhat attractive.
But another part of me knew better, so I went.
I made it to Inna’s butt-kicking class and got to see the blonde elfin powerhouse for the first time in a month since she left to compete with Artem in Blackpool where they placed 2nd in Rising Star and 16th in Open Professional. They are amazing! I feel so blessed to be learning from them and Ivan.
Artem and Inna at Blackpool
Just another reason to ask myself, what am I saying yes to (and conversely no to). In this instance I said yes to movement, dance, the chance to burn some calories, the opportunity to learn from an internationally ranked professional, and the pleasure to see my friends Colette and Toni. I also got to work on my arm-styling which was a topic of interest in the group class as well (it was an arm-themed day). I definitely benefited from Inna’s perspective on this issue and feel like I have a better understanding of ways to improve my arm styling because I was present in class last night.
Yes, yes. Logically, that all makes sense and it is the clear beneficial decision to make. But emotionally, well, I just didn’t feel like going.
On the converse, however, by going to class even when I didn’t want to, I was saying no to wallowing in self-pity, dwelling in self-hatred, and my comfy, comfy bed. And trust me, that bed was calling to me as sweetly as a Siren!
Ah, well, every moment is a choice, and every choice has prices and benefits.
And because I showed up, there were two wonderful moments for me. One, I met a new friend who had just taken her second dance class! She came to watch the group class and I gave her a card for the blog, in case she’d be interested to read it. It is exciting to meet new dancers, and exciting to share the blog. Two, Inna had me demonstrate a Samba combination. Usually she has one of her more experienced students demonstrate the combinations, but every once in a while she has me do one. I heard her saying, “Good!” as I did the combo across the floor and when I got to the other side she had me do it all by my lonesome. It kind of gave my ego a boost. And, whether true or not, I feel inside, that Samba is one of my stronger dances. I can move those hips!
So thank you, Colette, for getting my ass moving last night! You were a Godsend. Also, you cracked me up after class when I was sharing with you my woes, deep in lamentation, and you said, “Well snap out of it, girl!”
And now it comes full circle. Today was better and my favorite dance show is on (SYTYCD). The last guy they showed was tubby, like me. And in some ways it didn’t matter. He was a good human being and a good dancer and his joy and passion shone through. He was absolutely able to move people with his dancing. Then, in some ways, of course his size did matter. Clearly he wasn’t in any shape to continue on in the competition past the choreography round.
Well, I kind of think that is how it is for me, at the moment. Tubby, but passionate and can move surprisingly well. However, my vision is to marry that with a healthy body, and it is painful that reality is nowhere near what I can envision in my mind.
And yet, I will be there on July 12th with my sparkles on. I will be there shaking what my momma gave me, as I am, on that day, whatever that looks like. All I know is that I have a focus and drive like no kidding to make the most of the last four weeks before the competition. I have this time to do what I can to best prepare myself for the upcoming challenge.
Wish me luck!