My adult beginner’s ballet class continues to go well, even though I still look ridiculous and cannot figure out how to get my brain to follow our instructor and then direct my limbs to mimic her movements. I sometimes feel like my brain is short-circuiting in class. Repeating the same routines each week has helped build my memory, however.
Forcing myself to check the mirror is something I have been thinking about as well. Watching oneself in the mirror during ballet is often disheartening. My arches, for example, are far less awesome than I thought they were. My arabesque arms occasionally veer dangerously into resembling a Nazi salute. And then you catch a glimpse of the girl in the back who’s been en pointe before, kicking her leg up above her hips, and you think, “What am I doing here? I look like a cow.”
But as Stephanie said last night, during our post-ballet drinks, “I am done with hating on my body. Done!” It’s high time we, as adult women, stopped disparaging our bodies and started treating them with gentleness and respect.
These are the bodies we have, and they have been good to us. And even if mine is currently struggling to be graceful, I am enjoying this learning curve.