I started taking ballet classes at 36, because one day last year, I looked in the mirror and realized that if I didn’t get on the stick, my dancing career would be Out The Window. Fortunately, this amazing dance studio in my town offers beginner level dance classes to adults, so I was in luck. The classes are brilliant – invigorating and challenging for both body and mind, and I truly love them.
Today took that love to a whole ‘notha level when my classmate, Blanca (everyone should have a classmate named Blanca), told me that I have beautiful feet.
My family can kindly stop snickering. She told me that they were graceful and beautiful. I might ask her for it in writing, as it must be the first time I’ve ever been told that. Ever. Don’t get me wrong – I can’t complain since my feet work perfectly. (Probably because they’re so enormous that they’re quite stable.) But I still remember trying on boots as a teenager and asking if the store had the next size up. One of the members of my family, who shall remain nameless, asked incredulously, “Do they make them any larger?” Ha ha.
Well, I just lovelovelovelovelove ballet. And now I’m going to dance my beautiful feet off to bed.