My mom, sister, and I were going to a Steven Curtis Chapman concert at an outdoor concert venue in Raleigh. We walked through the gates into an open courtyard before heading up the stairs to the grassy hill, where we'd watch the concert. I saw a tent with some dancers, probably 10 year-olds. They made me smile.
I was a ballet dancer from age 3 through college. I had just moved to a new city to attend a university there, after deciding to move away from Raleigh and the private university I'd been attending. I need a change of scenery, and a cheaper university if I was to be a teacher. I was visiting home for the weekend, as I did often.
Standing outside of the tent, I saw her - my former ballet teacher. I burst into tears. I don't know where it came from. We quickly walked to the restrooms to get out of the crowd. I remember my mom saying, "I didn't know it affected you that much." I didn't know it affected me that much either.
She was referring to the strange relationship I had with my former dance teacher. Complicated. I danced in her company for 4 years. I respected her as a ballet teacher, as I'd been taught to do since I was a tot. I was not late. I did not argue - or even speak that often. I was not lazy in class. I studied every movement and used the mirrors to perfect each step. I attended all classes, rehearsals, and recitals, missing such events as Homecoming games and other school functions (of which I really had no interest anyway). I enjoyed performing with the dance company all over Raleigh. MY parents spent tons of money on point shoes and the required leotards and make-up. My mom drove me an hour from our home, one-way, a few times a week to dance classes until I got my own license. My teacher performed also, so we danced side by side. The dancers often had Bible studies together and sometimes even went on retreats together to bond. After a year or so of dancing in the company, I began to teach class in exchange for my tuition. They were some of the best years of my life. And some of the most trying.
After ballet class one spring day, I asked her if we could talk. I was shaking. "I feel like I needed to leave the company." I don't remember what else I said, probably not much. She was angry. "You signed a contract. You can't quit." I was at a loss for words. I hadn't prepared for the possibility that she would say no. I said "ok" and slumped out of the studio to my car, stunned and embarrassed. I came back to the studio the next day to teach my ballet class to 7 year olds. Her mother, who managed the office, told me that they would allow me to quit since they knew I'd made up my mind. They didn't want to force me to stay if it wasn't what I wanted. I taught my class, and left. I remembered smiling when I got to my car, feeling relieved.
A few months earlier, I had been late to class for the first time in 4 years. It was probably the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. My first semester was ending after my freshman year of college. Winter break was beginning and I had to have my dorm inspected after making sure the blinds were down, outlets were empty, fridge was cleared out, etc. The inspector was late, and knowing myself, I probably waited until the last minute to get my bags packed and make the 20 minute trek to my car. I walked into class 15-20 minutes late. She said "there was no excuse" for being late when I knew we had rehearsal. I was chastised in front of the other dancers and we continued our barre exercises. I remember crying during barre, feeling as if I'd let everyone down. It was her birthday. After our 3 hour class, we took a group photo with party hats, noisemakers, and her mom bought her roses. I still have the photo. My eyes are splotchy from crying. But I smiled, ever obedient. We never spoke of it again.
The thing is, when deflating situations are intermixed with bonding and connection through a common passion, prayer, and genuine friendship, you don't always know how deeply you've been hurt until the relationship is over. You look back, add it up, and think, "How did I not see it?"
Truth be told, I gained so much wisdom in those years. I learned about myself. I learned the consequences of my silence. I learned perseverance through an art form that completely ignores girls who aren't flat-chested and weigh a ghastly 145 pounds. I would have surely quit a traditional ballet studio because the only option for continuation was to become a professional, and I was not in the running, so I assumed. Through dancing for a Christian dance company, I was able to explore dance as an expression of worship. It gave me discipline, but also purpose. It turned dance into a vain obsession with body image and discipline into an avenue for artistry and personal expression.
Looking back, I now know that it took time and thoughtful reflection to pull out the beauty from the ashes. It is only now, over 10 years after leaving Raleigh and that dance company, that I have positive feelings about those years. Not always intentional or strategic, I continue to go through these same steps any time I'm hurt and need to heal:
1) Distance yourself from the pain - I don't necessarily mean, move to another town; however, that's what I needed for more than one reason. Sometimes it means quitting a job. Sometimes it means having a difficult conversation with someone to let them know you need some space. If someone has hurt you, overanalyzing the heck out of the situation comes naturally for most. It can all send you into a downward spiral of bitterness.
...replaying conversations in your head
...considering all of the would'ves and should'ves
...blaming yourself or blaming others
Don't. Go. There. As my good friend Elsa says, "Let it go."
Example: For years after I quit dancing, it was too painful to even see a ballerina or look at my old mementos. I boxed my dance clothes, shoes, figurines and pictures and put them out of sight.
2) Expose yourself to the pain - After some time has passed, take out that box and dust it off. I think a psychologist would call this Exposure Therapy. Oh you're afraid of spiders? Here hold this spider. There is something to be said for it. Stay with me. Completely blocking something out of your life will cause negative feelings (bitterness or anxiety) whenever you are faced with that thing.
Let's say you fell off of a bike as a kid and had a horrible accident. You decided never to ride a bike again. Even as an adult, years later, the sight of a bike would make you shake with fear. The negative feelings are multiplied as more time goes by and your fears become phobias. Take it slow, though. Go buy a bike and put it in your garage. Then, move it into the driveway where you see it every day. Eventually, sit on it. Maybe ride down a small hill without pedaling, until you feel comfortable enough to ride the bike again.
Exposure Therapy needs balance. Put your toe in the water; don't jump in. If I am lonely or sad, I don't choose to watch "Steel Magnolias" or "Beaches," as much as I love those moves. I will have to call my husband to scrape me off of the floor because I will be a puddle of feels. I call it my "emotional diet" - the goal is to stay well-balanced. Think about the past as much as your heart and mind will allow. If it's too upsetting, set it aside and walk away. Return to it another day.
Example: After I moved to a new town, I signed up for some ballet classes at my new university. It ended up that I was able to use them as "art" credits for my teaching degree, but I would have taken them even with no credit. I was paying tuition anyway, so why not? I was able to dance and reclaim ballet as mine, instead of part of my past pain. I created new memories. It kept the bitterness away.
3) Forgive others - Forgive the people who hurt you. Look at their "big picture" and realize that their actions most likely were not personal. "Hurt people hurt people," am I right? Understanding that I am not the center of another person's universe has helped me in many situations where I needed to find a way to forgive.
4) Forgive yourself - This one has come with age, because I've always been the first to beat myself up. I let go of my mistakes. I let go of the words unspoken. I let go of the times when I let myself get hurt because I was too chicken to speak up. I let go of the times I messed up. Sure, things could have been different if I'd made different decisions, but accepting what has happened as your personal journey of discovery will help you accept and respect your journey. There was a purpose for every step, good or bad.
5) Create new joys to replace the past pains - I now love taking my daughter to ballet class and watch her mistakes and successes with joy. Once they begin offering adult classes, I will enroll in my own class, even though I'll probably be winded after 5 minutes. I love watching professional ballet videos on youtube and have a million articles about ballerinas scroll through my newsfeed on Facebook every day. I follow a famous ballet photographer on FB and find joy in seeing the dancers, something I wasn't able to completely do as a younger dancer. "So You Think You Can Dance" anyone? I couldn't watch it until about 3 years ago. Now, I don't miss an episode.
What NOT to do:
Exposing yourself to your past pains does not mean tracking down every ex-boyfriend and going to a counseling session. You may come across a bit unstable. ;) It's not always necessary to confront a person who hurt you. Sometimes, it's needed. Sometimes, it's not. You decide. In my opinion, if both parties are stuck and can't move on, they may need to revisit the past together. If the other party has moved on, and you are stuck, figure out a way to move on too. If they aren't giving a second thought about you, why should you spend so much time and energy worrying about them?
Full disclosure: I googled my former dance teacher about a year ago. I felt a TINY part of myself hoping I'd find her overweight, miserable, unemployed, and ruining others lives as she'd ruined mine. Dramatic right? (Don't go down the google rabbit hole. It's not a good kind of exposure therapy.) What I found were her wedding photos from a photographers website. She'd met her new husband after moving to a new state and worked at a church in charge of a dance program. How did I feel? Neutral. Detached. I hoped she was happy, but in a "seeing a stranger getting married on the beach" kind of way. I had no investment. I had withdrawn my emotions from our relationship, and it felt good.
Learn and Grow:
I think we all want to break the cycle and try to avoid hurting those we love as we have been hurt. Right? I can avoid most of the overt pains she caused - chastising people in front of others, using a position of power to manipulate, being insensitive about someone's religious background, etc. It's the more subtle pains that we tend to repeat.
- She used silent treatment to avoid talking about the real issues. (Totally my nature, because elaboration is only my strength after I've had 10 years to analyze something.)
- Although she shared quite a bit about her own personal life, she did not ask about mine. This caused her to misjudge and criticize me for things she did not understand. (How many times to I judge others actions and assume I know their motivation, but don't take the time to really ask how they're really doing?)
- She was not honest about how she was feeling and did not apologize when she was wrong. (So easy to do, especially as a teacher and parent.)
Above all, remember that life is a journey. God has placed you on your yellow brick road with joys and disappointments that fulfill a larger purpose than you will ever understand. We may feel our life is insignificant, that a complicated relationship doesn't mean anything compared to the trials some people face in this world; but we are significant. Every step is significant. And how we choose to respond, now or later, in the face of trials is what keeps joy and love in the world.
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