Saturday, April 14, 2012


I don't remember much about her. All I know is that she was an overweight adult who had decided to join the advanced ballet class with a bunch of teenage girls. I also remember how horrible we were to her. How we whispered and laughed.

She was probably younger than I am now, but at the time she seemed so old. And oh, my God, why do they even make leotards that big?

But now I recognize her courage; the strength to show up, week after week. The love of the ballet drove her to surrender herself, not only to her own physical limitations, but to our taunting as well.

I wish I could go back in time and be nice to her. I also wish I could find her today, and tell her that across twenty-ish years and unknown miles, she has inspired me. Wherever she is, I hope she is still dancing.

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