pirouette - french for 'to whirl about'When one learns to do a single, double, triple turn, we are taught to focus on a spot. An unmoving object to keep you from spinning out of control. If you lose your focus, or your constant is no longer there, you lose sight, get dizzy, and fall. As a dancer, you get accustomed to the routine of having the lights on you, find where you belong on stage and really own your part.
What happens when the dance is over? I have found that is when we truly have to face the music. There are no more rehearsals three nights a week to occupy your mind, no little thrills, and someone else has taken your place in the centre of your former stage. My spot that I focused on for so long is now someone else's to concentrate on. I felt dizzy, and landed on my Grande Derriere.
The opinions we believe to be fact always alter, and the only constant thing is change. Sometimes, this can make you feel crazier than the girl that hid chicken under her bed in Girl Interrupted, but time will make fools of us all.
I'm no longer in the same place. I have changed so much that it feels good to stop, wipe my brow and reevaluate how this former dance has made me a new person.
I learnt that sometimes men say the sweetest things, just before they make you cry.
I learnt how it felt to feel so very alone, even though you are right next to someone.
I have learnt that going out on a weeknight to catch your breath, may result in you purchasing a new thermos for your coworker, as it's your fault she threw up in hers.
The new dancer in my place could be taller, get a shiny new costume and a better health plan, and I just have to accept that is a bigger and better show out there for me to star in.
Even if you're dizzy, or lost, or sad because you fell. Just take a breath and keep. on. twirling.
Working out what happens after you exit stage left,
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