the last show

there is so much i want to say, there is a lot i'm afraid i'll leave out. my days of dancing are over at last. this past weekend was emotionally difficult and overly joyous. that's a lot to feel at one time. some of the happiest moments were spent in my dressing room of the theater with my friends. laughing and sharing stories and goofing off. helping each other change costumes at the speed of light in between numbers. stretching with our feet propped on chairs or walls or whatever. my whole dance experience would never have been so amazing without the people i spent it with. they're the ones who were there every step of the way. the ones who literally were the reason i was on cue and in the correct place half the time. the ones who made it what it was. and i'm going to miss those girls.

when i was three years old, i performed in a recital. my ballet shoes stepped onto the sticky and glitter laden black floor of the stage for the first time. my tutu was as big as i was, dazzling with white and blue sequins. i looked out into the dark room filled with people, past the bright lights that nearly blinded me. i didn't know it then, but that was the beginning of a journey. for the next fifteen years of my life, i would dance.

i cannot compare any feeling to what happens on that stage. before the show starts, the dancers gather in a circle that fills the entire space. we clasp hands and stand in first position. there is a prayer of thankfulness and for safety. feeling the person next to me squeeze my hand, i squeeze the hand of the person on my other side, as the action spreads all the way around. its a way of calming our fears and our worries. and its a reminder that the show is a team effort, that we're all in this together. then we scatter to our places and wait for the it to begin.

 standing there in the wings, concealed by giant curtains. over the years of being here, the nervousness has turned to excitement. a readiness to be out there dancing. the cue comes, i recognize the music as my time to step out. then it happens; a rush. the enormous room goes still and all eyes are on us, the dancers. i am focused and energized and suddenly i'm dancing. my arms unfold and my legs extend just like i practiced for months. almost involuntarily, i don't have to think about it, i just do it. the way i have been performing for years. its like second nature to me.

saturday night, my instructor introduced the graduating seniors for the fourth time, gave us each a quick embrace. the crowd applauded and watched as we lifted our right arms and bowed. it was my last bow. i'm not much for crying, especially around other people. but that gut-wrenching reality i felt inside from the knowing that was my last show, really hit me hard. and so i cried, trying to smile and not let the mascara run.

i will attend the recitals to come and watch as my friends perform. i'll probably cry when their time comes to leave as well. my little sister will hopefully continue on as i did. because dance is so much more than pretty poses and leaps. its more than just performing. more than stage make up and block rehearsals and interesting shoes. more than the music we hear or the moves we make. its a passion. i've crossed paths with people i won't forget. i've gained perseverance and endurance and many memories. walking through the doors of the studio each week has taught me that working hard for what you want, is always worth it. i wouldn't have traded that for anything.