I’m a dancer.
You might not have known that about me. I’ve been out of practice for a few years.
My love, joys, and sorrows are best expressed through my body, through the movements of my limbs, core, and head. This is called dancing– and it is my art form.
I used to think I had to be skinnier, more talented, or have an interested audience to be a successful dancer. I used to be ashamed of my body, the vessel with which I dance. I would watch my thighs jiggle in the mirror, instead of dancing full out. I would compare myself to others instead of making it my own. I thought I wasn’t good enough.
I did not do my best, or dance with passion, because of my fears.
But dance is freedom from all those worries!
This morning I danced in my bathroom.
I smiled lovingly at my jiggly thighs, and laughed when I tripped up. No audience was needed, no spotlights, costumes or studio, just me in my compression shorts, sports bra and glasses. I was beautiful. I am beautiful. and so are you.
Today I start dancing fearlessly, be it in my bathroom, living room or on a stage.
I had accepted that the dancing part of my life was over. That’s just how it goes when highschool is over and you focus on a scientific career path. But is it really “accepting” it when you think bitterly of how you can’t do it? When you cry every time you hear the Swan Lake soundtrack… I acted as though I wasn’t allowed to dance, as if there was someone stopping me. There is nothing stopping me, except perhaps myself.
I do not have to be the best, I don’t need to be noticed, but I will be free and dance.
So writer’s please write. Singers please sing. Musicians play. Designers design. Artists paint, and draw. Photographers capture. Speakers speak. Lovers love.- Fearlessly. Without inhibition. No matter what anyone else thinks.
Wouldn’t that be beautiful?