Révérence

ballet post

The one thing I dread most in my dance years is this. Leaving a dance studio.

As my current studio does not provide the grade syllabus that I am required to attend in order to take the exam, I am left with the option of either taking private classes in the current studio or to attend classes elsewhere. Turns out private classes just aren’t going to work out as planned. So I’m left with one option, and that is to leave my home studio in search for another.

There is a certain connection a ballerina has with her studio. A certain loyalty that she gives to the teachers that taught her. You owe them everything. You owe them your dance. True, at times the studio might not be the best studio. It might not give you the best exposure, the best floors, or the best training. But yet every week you go in the studio, you put on your demi-pointes, and when the teacher says plié, you do it. She says adage, you give your best penché. And when allegro comes, you just wish she’d end the class because you’ve exhausted yourself. She might not say a good job to you, but she was there when she told you to pull up your tummy. You’ve watched both the class and yourself grow. It was a quiet relationship but nonetheless a good one.

I’m nervous to leave even though I know there’s nothing I can do to stay. I imagine myself having to give in my letter, and wonder how am I even suppose to begin to tell my teacher. How should the conversation begin? She was always quiet with a strict composure. I could never get her to talk casually. It was always a student- teacher relationship. It’s like leaving a company you’ve worked in. You have your reasons to leave, but it’s never the easiest thing to do.

I’m afraid of the unknown. Afraid that I won’t fit in in my new studio, or maybe I can’t keep up with class and feel left behind. Not to mention having to make new friends again and getting used to the new teaching style. Speaking from past experience, it takes me quite a while to settle in.  I’m so comfortable just sitting at the edge of a cliff. Now I have to get up, step over and fall. I’m afraid of heights so I don’t think I’ll enjoy the fall down no matter how exhilarating it might feel to some others. But I do hope that something exciting awaits me down there. Well, I’m excited for it, whatever it may be.

This is going to be my second time uprooting from a ballet studio and moving to another. It didn’t get easier, but it did made me rethink my reason to dance.

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