I thought I could Dance ...

The curtain rises. The anticipation builds and the lights shine a beam on little faces .. one of them mine, all looking totally terrified and nervous as we force that required smile out to the audience of biased parents.  Yep I am talking about dance school or Ballet for me to be more exact.

I must have started Ballet at about the age of 6.  I loved it.  Like most girls I had the dream of being a Prima Ballerina in beautiful tutus and spinning around on my toes.  Of dancing with a troupe to Swan Lake and collecting the flowers thrown to me by the appreciative audience at the end of the recital.  Ooo a child's dreams can be exciting but sometimes reality hurts !

Point your toes, turn your ankles out, bend your knees and have a long graceful neck.  Bend Bend Bend !!!  Flowing arms, delicate fingers, move with grace and fluidity.  Bend Bend Bend !!! Stretch your body, warm up at the bare, can you do the splits today? No No No !! 

Plie, Arabesque, Pas de chat, Jete Jete, Pirouette. Names totally foreign to me.  Names that sounded so romantic but in reality were brutal and difficult for a young body.  Still I loved it.



I must have been about 8 here

 I was always told to bend. Bend my knees more, get lower in a Plie, deeper in to the move.  Bend my body back more, arch it gracefully while all the time keeping my shoulders down and my neck long.

Round my arms and turn my feet out, Bend , Bend , Bend!!  I could not bend.

I have since been informed by my cruel but wonderful physio that there was no way in this world I was going to be able to BEND into all the postitons that were required of me back then.  My body would not then or now ever have allowed it.  Ligaments way too tight and short for any bending so I can look back now and say to my self I did my best. Still I loved it.

Music played on the piano for us to practise to.  Long mirrors to watch our- selves spin and dance in. Learning new steps, new dances full of promise for the stardom that we were all sure we were heading for.  Who would be the lead, who would wear the best costume, who would do a solo?  When would we be on the stage?

Little girls in blue leotards, pink stockings and soft pink ballet shoes with ribbon wound around our ankles to keep them on. Oh how I loved my shoes. Soft and delicate.  I think we all felt that just by putting them on we would all magically be graceful. Hair pulled back into buns so tight it was like having an instant face lift.  Rubbing our feet in the resin to stop us slipping as we twirled around the room.  I loved it.

Costumes.  My mum spending hours creating the most beautiful dresses.  Spending days sewing sequins on so I could glitter from the stage.  Tutus, character dance, Sunbeam and 'Tittle mouse' costumes to name a few.  I don't know how she did it to be honest.  We still have them.  I look at them with yearning and also admiration for what they represent.  A time of innocence and dreams. My beautiful niece now wears them for dress up and its like time has stood still seeing her in them.
I think most dance schools now hire costumes to the students.  But mine were made by mum.

End of year concerts.  All our preparation to be put on show.  Costumes made, rehearsals finished and now time for the grand appearances. 
Change rooms full of giggling girls.  Makeup being applied thick and dramatic.  Remembering our teacher holding us down to apply eye liner that hurt.  Hair slicked back and shining with decorations matching our costumes to complete the look.
Gathering at the side of the stage waiting our turn as all of our parents sat in the audience preparing for their child's gleaming performance. Nervous.

Then it was time.  Curtain up, lights on and smiles.  Trying to remember the routine as my nerves take hold and all I want to do is run off the stage somewhere safe.  Jump, bend, twirl, bend, curtsy, applause it was over.  Still I loved it.

I must have done Ballet for around 6 years.  It became harder as I grew.  Point shoes made me 6ft which for a dancer is not ideal,  but still I do not regret a day of it at all.

Ballet teaches discipline and poise.  It provides a wonderful basis for many activities.  It builds strength and stamina. 

It has taught me to stand tall and when I want to I can be graceful.

My Weed boy would be an amazing dancer.  He is built for it, slim with long limbs and a stance that just radiates dance, but trying to convince a 6 year old male to take up ballet or any other dance for that matter is near impossible.

So I will continue to live my dance dreams through my niece.  I ironically now work at the theatre where I did so many performances as a child and it really has not changed.  The ghosts of my ballet days still ring true back stage and I am glad at least I get to hold onto just a small part of it so the spirit of my dance can still live on in me.

                       Cheers Dilly xx