I began to write stories at age twelve. I had no clue I aspired to be a writer, nor do I remember wanting to. Nope, I intended dance. I loved dancing. Growing up, I took ballet, tap, and jazz classes. I enjoyed jazz the most. Jazz had a showmanship appeal. We group of girls rehearsing or on stage, performing the same movements or sequences gave me the impression of what the real deal felt like, and I desired to dance on Broadway.
Unfortunately, the dream never formulated into a reality. I’ll never know if I was good enough to go further than the small dance studio in Waco, Texas because I didn’t voice my dreams to anyone. Therefore, I didn’t try. I was too scared.
And I stayed afraid for a long time. Well past adulthood.
My fright didn’t stem from a longing to write romance novels or anything else. No, my fear was stifling. My apprehension grew from sense of futility. I didn’t believe I was good at anything. Lack of confidence fueled my uncertainties.
When I discovered my love for penning words, my entire world changed. It didn’t happen overnight, but doubts and negativity were replaced with poise, determination, and most importantly faith. I finally believed in me.
Regrettably, this newfound courage occurred when I reached middle-age, but hey, if there’s anything positive to be said about aging–we mid-lifers are no longer afraid to shed the skin of uncertainty and seek out our dreams. Even failure is better than not giving it a shot.
My new-found bravery has stimulated me to try other things I secretly yearned to do. I love photography, and enjoy taking photographs. Nowadays, when the urge hits me, I grab my camera and go shoot pictures. Anyone sees a crazy lady parked on the roadside taking pictures of a cow. Yep, that’s me. You can laugh. I do.
Forever, I wished I could paint on canvas. I’m currently making my first attempt. A reveal may come at a later time, if it’s any good! Or not, oh well. I’m having a blast creating my latest masterpiece. I’ve already picked the spot for display—my bathroom wall. The room has the best lighting.
Do I still dance? (Giggles) Not too much. I take a yoga class, and movements are done to music. Feels great, but dancing? I don’t think so. For my day job, I work in an elementary school with special needs children. I accompany one of my students to PE. On Fridays, the coaches play the Wee with music and aerobic type videos for the kids to follow. I get to show off my polished steps to the sounds of Disney. That’s about it.
Although I will admit when I watch dancers perform kick-ass moves, the hunger to join in still remains. At least mentally. If only the body could keep up.
As an adult, I danced vicariously through my daughter. This is a photo taken at her wedding. These five lovely ladies danced together for ten years.