I can still see my 12-year-old self, lying across my friend’s bed, sobbing my heart out. It would be another year before my “boring” family would take a dive into dysfunction, so the news I’d just received was the most devastating blow I could imagine.
After finally signing me up for dance lessons, my parents were pulling me out. Just a few months after putting on a leotard and joining the cool girls in the ballet/jazz/tap combo class that was well above my beginner abilities, my parents realized they could not actually afford to continue my lessons.
I was crushed.
To this day, actually, I’m a little bit sad. Could it just be Dream Deferred Syndrome that makes me believe I could have been a good dancer? Is my hindsight clouded by a rose-colored lens?
Maybe. Whatever the explanation, and whether it’s sad and delusional or not, I truly think that somewhere inside my overweight, out-of-shape, 31-year-old body is a dancer.
Never mind my short legs and large frame. Never mind an aversion to leggings. Never mind my track record as a clutz.
I could be a dancer.
That’s right. I used present tense, my friends. Because I plan to celebrate National Dance Day by performing a dance routine choreographed by Napoleon and Tabitha D’umo.
Don’t get too excited. First of all, Nappytabs didn’t actually create a dance for me alone. They choreographed a routine for National Dance Day and put together a video to teach us newbies. Second of all, I will be performing it alone (or perhaps with Smitty, if I can convince her to join me) and not with a flash mob. Unfortunately.
And last but definitely not least, I will not be performing this in front of anyone! Are you crazy?!
My friend, Sara, has started a series on her blog called YOU:create. She’s encouraging her readers to do one creative thing each week and then link up proof on Thursdays. In the first week, I dusted off my out-of-tune piano and played a little song.
I’m using this dance for my YOU:create entry. I’m not sure how to prove that I’m doing it, though. Maybe I’ll videotape my feet. Because if you think I’m recording myself busting a move or breaking a leg (perhaps literally), you are out of your mind.
I mean, have you noticed the lack of photos of me around here? I saw someone on Twitter say a while back that Facebook is proof that everyone has one good photo of themselves. So true, so true. (My profile pic is almost two years old – and you can’t even really see my face!)
So, help me out. How should I prove that I’m doing this dance?
And if you’d like to join me in celebrating National Dance Day, here’s the tutorial from Tabitha and Napoleon: