Hello my delicious caesar salad croutons,
I hope this email finds you thriving!
I have some news: next week I’m off to ballet school!
I got accepted into a 6-week full-time ballet and contemporary dance program in Germany. I’m not a natural ballerina by any means- honestly, it’s not even my favourite style. But I love the technical challenge, the internal spaciousness it offers, the poise and possibility for movement choice and range that it entrains.
I couldn’t touch my toes until I was 25 and only started taking ballet and contemporary dance classes when I was 29. I’d literally never taken a class before then. At the ripening age of 31 (I will turn 32 while I’m there), I will be joining people that have been dancing their whole lives. Many of them will be 10 years younger than me and “in their prime”.
But I’m also in my prime. I move better than ever, and yet there’s also a stillness that I’ve come to through aging. I manage my energies differently; am more intentional in movement and gesture, because I’m more aware of the effects of my choices. While I still can’t quite do the splits, get my leg as high, or spin as fast or as often as some of the other dancers probably can, I offer another kind of embodiment. Someone whose journey to dance was very different. The kind of body that isn’t talked about much, or seen within dance culture: the person who took the longer road. And with it, I bring knowledge of other places.
My first pair of ballet shoes
Recording this podcast episode was a vulnerable one for me. In it, I work through real-time some of my feelings of grief, anger, and anxiety. I discuss how our training approaches change as we age, how dance has been both the bridge and the teacher to understanding myself, my sexuality, and my gender expression. I have a grief about aging, of the possibilities that never came to fruition, of the lives unlived. Nowhere is this more true than in my relationship with my body.
Alongside that comes anger. Anger about the ways we socialise “boys and girls” within such rigid cages (not to say that this doesn’t also exist within certain dance spaces, too). My family is incredible- an oasis, really- and yet we still all have to swim in these waters. “Coming out” isn’t a binary thing: I don’t think I’ll ever be done with it (and isn’t that the gift that queerness teaches us?) - yet, at the same time, when you’ve waded through your shame far enough, you can look back and see clearly how so much of it was all smoke and mirrors. What a complete waste of everyone’s fucking time.
I’ll probably write more about it here, though perhaps I won’t, dance being an extremely intimate practice for me, the 7 year-old that I was, and all the other lives that inhabit this body. For now, it’s enough to say that I’m proud of myself, grateful for this experience, and excited for growth in ways that I cannot yet predict.
The aging body is still a beginner’s body. We’re always learning, possess capabilities beyond our understanding, and we begin by allowing it to be so. What has aging taught you? Feel free to reply to this email if something here resonates x
Mickey
PS. applications have now closed for the first round of the x3 Liberation Program scholarships. However I’ll be keeping submissions open, and any further applications will be considered for future cohorts. This application is for those who identify as LGBTQIA+, BIPOC, disabled, or belonging to another marginalised community, and/or self-identify as an activist, and are interested in coaching with me 1-on-1. If that sounds like you, please click here, or reach out to me via email.
#MakeYourMove
