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Am I too late?



Is it too late to become a ballerina?


Each Friday morning at ten o’clock, I struggle to disprove popular opinion.

The will is there—oh how I want to be a ballerina.

However, it may be too late.


Instead of ballet slippers, I wear my black Bombas no-slip socks ignoring the large hole in each heel.


My frazzled hair floats around my head, unthinkable to style in a bun.


Ballerinas wear pink; I do not own one article of pink clothing.


My arms will not gracefully encircle my head; my elbows are pointy.


And I don’t speak the language. Ballet is an art form full of French words, a great majority of which have The Acute Accent (L'Accent Aigu) over an e in dance-related terms such as in ballonné, jeté, relevé, coupé, or chassé.


Still and yet, I long to be a ballerina.

 

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Just keep on dancing, Marilyn!!! No need for pink, nor lamb's wool in pointe slippers, nor leotards. I really enjoyed ballet until I noticed that all the other 12-year-olds had pointy things on the front of their leotards - teeny boobs forming. I had none. I was outta there, asap! But I still love to dance

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I love that you do this and so many other ways you participate in the world of art, culture, food, and so much more. You are a gourmand of life! xoxo Judy

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So don't give up. You can always be a ballerina in mind AND body...keep going girl, it's what keeps us young.

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I started ballet lessons when I turned 29, and I kept them up until I was well into my 40s but my hips wouldn't let me continue. It was all a dream, and I was awful at the art, but I loved every minute. I still remember the gut wrench when the ballet mistress said to all of us, "Don't take this so seriously, it's not like you're trying to get to Broadway." But in my dreams I was. And she crushed them for a moment. Then I went on and teetered across the floor dreaming away. For you, dear Marilyn, it's not too late. Keep dancing. Keep dreaming.

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