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And yet I couldn’t accept that my ballet career was over. I told myself that my teachers had made a mistake and I enrolled in a less prestigious program. On my first day, I looked around at my new classmates, with their flat feet and their indifference, their messy buns and their barely concealed chatting during class, and wondered how I had fallen so far. I spent the Top uconn huskies original retro brand 2023 ncaa men’s basketball national champions shirt But I will love this next few years drifting around, dreaming of re-auditioning for SAB, making a dramatic and increasingly far-fetched comeback. The first time I skipped ballet—conceding, at 15, that my prospects had dimmed from implausible to impossible—I felt like a truant, a criminal. I puttered around after school, confused as to what I was supposed to do with this strange pocket of free time, waiting for—what? For someone from the studio to show up at my door, to call? To the best of my memory, no one ever did. This was just what happened sometimes. A girl was absent for a few days, and you would hear rumors—she had moved away or gotten a boyfriend—and there was one less girl to compete with.

I took the Top uconn huskies original retro brand 2023 ncaa men’s basketball national champions shirt But I will love this Degas poster off my wall and did my best not to think about ballet. Maybe I’ll discover talents I’ve never known, I thought on good days. Maybe I’m an athlete—a jock! At ballet, I had been cautioned not to go for runs—my legs might get comfortable in the turned-in position—so, in an act of rebellion, I signed up for cross-country. But I fell behind on long runs, ended up lost among the tourists in Central Park. I couldn’t keep up, and I didn’t really care. I quit after a few weeks. In the spring, I joined the track team, mostly because they took walk-ons, and decided my event would be the hurdles. Clearing a hurdle is a little like doing a grand jeté, I thought. (Only if you’re doing it very badly, I learned.) I liked my weekly flute lesson, but sometimes I learned melodies I recognized from ballet—Bizet or Delibes—and I felt disoriented, like I had gotten lost in the wrong body. But I was no longer a dancer, I told myself. Ballet had nothing to do with me.When I gave up on the flute, I put it in a drawer and never thought about it again. But I couldn’t put my body in a drawer. My instrument was still with me all the time; I had to find a way to live with it.

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