April 13, 2021

just dance

(photo taken at our family dance party during our family documentary photo shoot)

I don’t think it’s any kind of secret that I battle anxiety. I have my whole life. And cancer and other traumas of 2018-2019 took it to a whole new level.

One of my favorite coping strategies is movement. Particularly dance. 

My unfulfilled childhood dream has always been to be a ballerina. I LOVED the ballet class I took in college. And wish so badly I had danced more as a child. I haven’t abandoned my dream of ballet, but I have had to alter it and pretend that barre classes at the gym are the same thing (shh, it’s not) or that my living room is actually a prestigious studio (it just might be).

My living room “studio” also acts as discotheque, musical theater stage, and, really, as a place for all interpretive dance. 

My anxiety has been high this last week because it was injection week at my oncologist and there was another difficult experience a few days before that. 

I got the younger kids tucked into bed. Eric drove off with the older boys to get their Covid vaccines. And I turned the music on in the living room. I picked three songs and played them over and over again as I danced around the room. It was such a release. 

Is it strange that I turn the music up and dance alone? Or is it a sign that I really should’ve been a ballerina?