Deja Vu

My relationship with dance over the last few years has been tenuous to say the least. I struggle to make it to class two times a week and I usually leave depressed and dejected. I can't make my body do what it used to and I feel like I disappoint myself every time I enter the studio. I sometimes wonder why I still go. I certainly am happy to not perform for awhile but there's this part of me that just can't walk away from it altogether. It's at those times that I realize my alternative is the gym and I just can't handle that.

Tonight, I'm not sure what happened, but for a few brief moments, I remembered why I loved dancing. For some reason, my body seemed to obey my brain and the pain subsided long enough for me to feel like I could fly and float again. It probably didn't look like much but it felt incredible.

I know I claim to hate dance sometimes, but it's really because I love it so much. No matter what side of the spectrum I may be on, I'm always passionate about it. They say the opposite of love isn't hate but indifference. I guess that goes to show that it still has a strong hold on my heart. As much as dance frustrates me sometimes, I love knowing that it still means something to me.