Dancing.

I think giving up dance was one of the biggest regrets of my life.

I started dancing really late, age twelve or thirteen. Before, I was a proud tomboy, and shunned dance as a pansy sissy past time. I went to a middle school that had a huge emphasis on performance arts, but I requested a PE class instead of the Pre-IB Dance Class. Somehow, I got bullied into going to an audition by my one friend in seventh grade. Even back then, when I had this wannabe tough gal persona, dance was so easy to fall into.

I remember the first time I danced. It was an afro-haitian fertility dance, lots of body isolations and rhythmic stomping and feeling the percussion through to my bones. Man, it was an awesome feeling. It was like crack cocaine. I wanted more! Give me afro and Irish! Lyrical and tap! Modern and swing! I didn't touch ballet though, because ballet is intimidating. Ballet is all rules. Ballet is for girls who took classes from age three, not someone who got in so late that she lost all her flexibility (to this day, I can't do the splits). Ballet girls scared me.

They still scare me.

Yeah, I wish I stuck with dance. I wish my mom enrolled me in baby ballet, I wish I wasn't such a stubborn boy-girl. I wish I could see my old friend from seventh grade, and tell her thank you. Maybe I can go back in time and tell myself young self to stick with it, even if what's-her-face is sniggering at my arabesque. And then I'd go and kick what's-her-face in the fork. I wish, I wish, I wish.
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