Not a born dancer
The lights were so bright, almost blinding. The music was loud, it was a song I knew like the back of my palm. I had heard this song over and over again for the past 4 months. 1000 sets of eyes were all on me. My heart was pounding, I felt an adrenaline rush like I had never felt before. And before I knew it, it was over; my senior ballet solo, the moment in my dancing career that I had anticipated since I was a toddler.
I worked so hard to reach that point in my life. I never missed a single ballet class and I stretched my foot as hard as it would point. Every dance class was a competition to me, it was a competition with myself to see just how much better I can get. I would push myself to see just how much lower in my split I could get or how many more turns I can do in my pirouette than the last time. I worked hard, dance was my passion.
I watched other girls around me, some of them had that same fiery passion as I,
some were clearly just there because they needed a hobby. Not everyone possessed the drive and passion for a particular hobby like I did. I wasn’t born a talented dancer, I busted my butt week after week to become the top dancer in my school. The other girls would complain about how I had more featured roles, how I was always in the front row, they would always make it clear that it bothered them. But it bothered me more. If those girls wanted what I had EARNED, they should have put in the same effort I did.
I wrote about people who shared these same qualities, people who earned and desired everything they achieved. When I look at people like Katt Williams and Oscar Pistorius, and even Jake Sully from Avatar, I see people with strive and ambition, much like myself in dance.