Hey there!
Okay, so… Sure. Let’s get into it.
[And, I do realize everybody on Earth has dreams, and nearly everybody needs money. I’m not acting like I’m soooooooo special to have dreams and something I want to spend money on. But this is my specific story.]
I’m gonna tell you something SUPER embarrassing, but it’s the truth of it all, and it’s probably gonna make this make some more sense. So, I’m just gonna tell you ’cause that’s the simplest thing to do.
For those of you who haven’t been reading my blog all these years (or even maybe for those who have) – here is an extremely quick rundown of my life [or at least the bullet points that are relevant to this story; there probably are many more]
The beginning
- Toddler in diapers – watches Michael Jackson, LOVES music, dances her butt off
- Middle school – dance, dance, dance. [Heck yeah, we did Thriller at my recital]
- [Also in here, my dad and I start going to watch The Indiana Pacers play in a different arena every year. I love the NBA. This will become clear why it’s relevant in a minute haha.]
- High School – sets up schedule to take basically ALL performing arts classes Junior & Senior year. Does tap in the morning at the local professional dance academy.
- Berklee College of Music(!!!), one of the best music schools. Gets known around school as a dancer – goes on the local Boston news to teach The Single Ladies dance as a fun ridiculous random thing having to do with… school(?), I forget.
Dum dum duuuuum
- Find out I have a weird congenital heart defect. Goes from being known as “the fun girl who dances” to “the heart girl”
- In and out of the hospital for a year; has open-heart freaking surgery.
- Between aaaaaaaall the various heart surgeries and complications, etc., I gain TONS of weight (like a lot, no joke). And I lose all my fitness.
- I claaaaaaw my way back from all of that. I lose the weight. I pay off the medical bills (with help – thanks parents and loved ones).
- Finally in a stable condition (financially and fitness and everything), I get some headshots. I start dance classes. I start auditioning for things. I make it into my dream writing program in NYC. I think my life is FINALLY truly beginning.
- and then I get date raped/end up in a domestic violence relationship and it absolutely ruins me. I get so depressed, I can barely get out of bed. I gain all kinds of weight again. And it all seems like it’s over.
And then, like a Phoenix… haha
- I get very intense therapy, and get all the tools I need to function in the world again and not be quite SO freaking depressed and anxious all the time
- I somehow lose nearly 100(!) pounds, FINALLY getting back to normal
- [I even FINISH my dream musical theater program – making the cut of the cut program – after deferring because of everything that happened]
- Aaaand I write a musical on domestic violence that makes it into multiple festivals!
- I start up in ballet. I get en pointe. I try out for the Clippers dance team [I told you the NBA would be relevant haha]. [It even goes better than expected! I don’t make the team, but I do better than I think, and am soooo ready for the following year.]
- But now… Again, SO embarrassing. And not to like be gross. But with gaining and losing 100 pounds, I have some loose skin on my thighs! [And some other places, but that is the most egregious!]
- I desperately need some help putting my body back together. That takes a plastic surgery. I want plastic surgery – not to make an impossible body. Not to shave 5 millimeters off my nose. To put my body back together after letting it get out of control a couple of times. So that [ew ew ew ew eeeeeeew, sorry] my extra skin won’t get in the way when I dance – so that I don’t have to worry about looking weird in booty shorts, and that when I try out to dance in the NBA that people are looking at my muscular legs, not my loose skin. (I want to live some dancing dreams, before I get too old to do it.)
Okay, this blog post is kind of way too long as it is, so I’m gonna do a part 2 – tomorrow!