It’s interesting how dance can consume a person. I wrote a post about how some people just have a passion for dancing that cannot be ignored, and how this passion drives us to push ourselves through trial and error and pain and suffering (sometimes, from injuries). But at some point, our bodies age and we have to move on…if we’re lucky enough to continue working in the field we love, we become teachers or choreographers. However, for some of us, we move into a completely different arena. We become mothers and fathers, we work jobs with regular people…that is, people who don’t have flashbacks of Nutcracker performances when they hear Tchaikovsky’s score on the radio or in the mall. We find dance career alternatives.
When I first stopped dancing it was because of Achilles tendinitis. I also had a husband and a new baby that naturally changed my priorities in life. We lived in Lexington, Kentucky where I had performed a little with the ballet company, so when we went to performances I was watching all my old dance friends on stage. I cried every single time we sat in the audience to watch a performance. Deep inside I was grieving the loss of dance in my life. Sure, I was teaching. We started a dancewear store so I was in contact with dancers all the time. But I knew that I would never again put on my pointe shoes and dance on stage. It was like a part of me—a huge part—had died and would never come back. Continue reading “Once a Dancer, Always a Dancer”