A Forgotten Love...

So I mentioned yesterday how I was going to do something last night that was both scary and exciting; something that had once been my whole life, but that I hadn't done in 11 years. Words cannot describe how excited I was.

This former love of mine was the great forgotten love of my life; a love which I abandoned at a time in my life when things were bad and confusing. This love took the brunt of my sadness when I couldn't take it out anywhere else.

When I was 18 years old and a freshman in college, I abandoned my life long love of dance. Since that time, I have watched dancers with longing eyes and tried not to let myself remember how much I felt for dance. Two and a half years ago, my eldest daughter began to take ballet from a former teacher and dear friend of mine. This year, my second child began dancing as well. I had all but convinced myself that having my daughters dance was good enough: my time had passed and what I could do now was support them.

But then I would hear the music. I would watch the girls learning those fundamental steps at the barre and tell them how even when they were big and very good at dance that they would still be practicing those very same steps. I would watch the older dancers wrap their blistered toes and remember the many nights I would soak my own blistered toes only to go back for more the next day. The longing in my heart grew louder and it was becoming hard to ignore. I missed dancing.

The girls' dance teacher sent out an email saying that the River North Chicago Dance Co. was offering a jazz master class for area dancers in conjunction with their performance at our local university. I knew, as crazy as it was, that I had to go.

It had been 11 years, three babies, and a plethora of life experiences since I had taken any sort of dance class. A huge part of me felt crazy for braving such a thing. But there was a much bigger part of me that had been waiting 11 long, full years for this exact opportunity.

I'd have to say that my biggest fear was how I'd survive on my recently twisted ankle and the other injuries that I may sustain...being nearly 30 and pretty out of shape. I maybe should have been concerned about looking like an old lady who had no business trying to keep up with kids half her age...but I wasn't. I knew I'd be so elated in the moments that I would not notice or care about anything else.

And I was. It felt so good to dance again. My body and my mind got lost in the motions and the rhythms...it was pure bliss! Much to my surprise, my body remembered how to move...it was if it had never stopped. It's clear to me now that dance will always be a part of me. I know that it can no longer be the all encompassing love that it once was, but that it can still be a part of my life. I cannot tell you how amazing it felt to rekindle that passion!

So tell me...is there something from your past that you've secretly been missing?