So with great trepidation I looked in the phone book and found a studio just a mile from my home, and on Jan. 6, 1997, I took my first class. I was 33, way to old for such a difficult discipline (as one friend told me). I was scared to death and terribly determined.
I made my whole family work around my six-hour-a-week habit. They took it in stride and joined me sometimes. My husband actually took ballroom for about a year with me and my girls take ballet, tap, and jazz as their motivation permits.
I am a perfectionist when it comes to dance, which can be fortunate or not depending on the day. During my first three months I was SO discouraged. I would come home so depressed, sometimes in tears. My husband would say, "I thought you loved ballet?" To which I would sob, "Yes, I do. That is the problem."
I knew in my heart how it should feel and look, and I knew I was far from it. My body felt stiff and uncooperative. The terminology was strange and difficult to remember; sometimes the teachers seemed calloused to my struggle. They pushed me with their words and tried to mold me with their hands. I was so out of shape, overweight, and just out of it, exercise wise.
After six months I felt more competent. The instructors knew me better, too. The studio is a small one with several other adults who have started dancing as adults. One started at 36 and is near 60 now. The small classes gave me a lot of room to improve--and lots of attention.
The studio has four ballet (pointe for the ambitious) classes a week, one jazz, one tap, and one ballroom class. I signed up for unlimited classes and went to all of them. In October, after 10 months of working VERY hard (as only we obsessed types can), my teacher suggested that I was strong enough for pointe shoes.
I was WAY too excited. My family was in the middle of purchasing our first home and I had to wait until Dec. 3 to go with my teacher to get shoes. I was so thankful for her assistance. I wouldn't have had a clue how to find pointe shoes. My teacher said they need to feel perfect in the store or don't get them. If they are bad in the ballet store they will be worse on the ballet floor.
We tried on shoes for two hours. My feet were sore just from that--but I was determined to dance on them that night. I was terrified and excited and as hyper as a person could be. It wasn't helpful that everyone said I would have sore bleeding feet by the end. Fortunately they were wrong.
Every day I would practice at home for 10 to 15 minutes on my own and gradually worked up to a complete workout on my own at my friend's home that had a mirror and floor that was big enough. (She thought I was REALLY nuts and would ruin my feet and body dancing on my toes.) The reality was that my whole ballet technique got better. If your feet are sickled or you aren't pulling up you can really tell when you are on pointe. Within about a month my shoes started breaking down. I was practicing a lot on my own and only doing one pointe class (the rest in soft shoes).
By April I had to get new shoes and actually found some in a close-out bin for $13. Such a deal!!! They were great and didn't hurt my toes at all. So after one Saturday morning class I mentioned to my teacher that I could just keep dancing now that I was warmed up and she said go ahead. Well, I killed my feet. You see, in class you do an exercise and then you rest or talk about it. Well, on my own I didn't take any breaks. This was my great opportunity with the whole floor to myself. So, I went home that day with black toes--and couldn't do pointe for a whole week. (Eventually the toenails came off, but not much pain after that first week or two.)
Thanks again to the small studio, my teacher asked me to do the Ugly Duckling solo in our small spring recital. You would have thought it was a Broadway premiere the way my emotions were. I was SO challenged. Ballet took on a whole new meaning to me. I ate "ballerina food," talked and practiced ballet every chance I had, and made a white tutu with sparkles. I even went to the kid's ballet classes to practice my part with them. Our family friends would tease me about "ballerina food," and my kids were really excited for me. They were in the recital too. My husband and I did a ballroom number, and at the last minute, my teacher gave me a jazz solo to do as well (it helped to take my mind off of being the Ugly Duckling).
The recital came off well, but of course the video was pretty terrible to me. I can see all of the flaws and my lack of confidence. It is VERY frustrating to me--but I keep plugging along.
Ballet has changed my life and I think it will continue to do so. I have lost weight, have muscles and feel more confident. My husband thinks I look great, and my kids see that there are no limits to what we can do in our lives. I perform for their classes at school and tell the children about dancing. I am proud of all of the aspects of my life now as a wife, homemaker, part-time band instructor, and dancer--among other things :) . I think my husband is proud of me, too.
I talk to many women who are too afraid to even try something as romantic-sounding as ballet. I don't have the classic ballerina body, but I have the hope that I can become good enough and look good enough that my dancing would be enjoyable to watch for the average person. I am hoping to find more outlets for older dancers to perform or do workshops. Most conferences and camps are for teens or very young adults.
My next big step will be to go to some different dance classes here in Los Angeles where I live. It feels frightening, but I know I will do it--eventually... .
-- Edie Rice