In today’s essay I am going to talk about something my sisters and I did when we were young.
As I am looking at one of my drawings on the wall across my desk, it reminds me of a story, we, as little girls, wanted to dance like ballerinas. Like most little girls we wanted to wear tutus.
If you read my bio at edgintuitive.com, you perhaps have realized, we were living kind of reclusive. We didn’t have many friends at all.
We had an opportunity to be introduced to classical training, we went to the next town for one hour of dance a week. I was so excited to go there I had my little black leotard, the white tights and little black ballet slippers. I was ready to conquer the ballerina’s world, I wanted to be a little “rat” in an opera. I always dreamed of being a prima ballerina dancing my way to the top.
That dream went crashing down the first day we attended the class. I quickly realized it wasn’t a friendly place for my sister and I, we never felt accepted.
My mother never stayed there she used to drop us off for an hour.
The adult that was there always treated us as 3rd class citizens. You could sense, even though we never knew them, we were not welcome among them. Instead we were treated with a cold attitude and almost total indifference.
It was scary for me to go into that class. The kids never approached us, we felt like cast outs. We tried for a month but at the end we didn’t wanted to go back there. My mother was upset, she had spent money to get us there and, in the end, we didn’t want to pursue that activity.
My mother didn’t understand why, and I do not recall if we ever told her the reason.
It was, as a matter of fact, the only activity we did. Most of the time my sisters and I would go and walk in the country.
This horrifying event always stayed in my mind. I can see, as I am typing this story the room with those individuals.
I never became a ballerina for sure, but it never stopped me later in my life to dance. Also, I do, occasionally, go for classical training. The treatment I received in that dancing class, as horrible as it was, never shattered my dream. I always kept in my head, even as a young child that I would dance like a ballerina. Years later I have been able to do it.
I have learned to never give up on my dreams, even if it took a decade to finally materialized.