please

Well, usually Tuesdays and Thursdays are the easiest way for me to find an outlet. I have jazz class. I have a teacher that kicks my ass in the best way possible. I work hard to improve and to focus on being a good student. No, wait...not a good student. An amazing student. I push myself past my normal limits and I make it my goal to beat whatever I did last week. But for the past few days something's been nagging at my brain. And today it hit me full force. I'll give you a little insight to my flashback:

ASFA. Any year. I'm panting after dancing some ballet combinations in class. We applaud the teacher and the pianist for teaching and playing for us during class. I'm walking towards the dressing room with my friends when I hear my name called. My teacher wants to talk with me in their office. I sit down, hair in a bun, black leotard, pink tights, aching feet.

"Kelly, how are you feeling?"
"I'm feeling fine..."
"Well, I've noticed you've been a little sluggish in classes lately. Is something wrong?"
"No ma'am[or sir]. I feel like I'm trying hard."
"Well have you thought about what you're eating? Have you looked in to changing your diet?"
"uh....."
"I think you should. Especially if you want to make it in the dance world. You weren't planning on becoming a ballet dancer, were you?"
*silence* *hangs head*
"Oh...well you've got a lot of work ahead of you...and it will be tough. Come talk with me more often. We've got a lot to work on."

So....maybe I'm just a crazy girl, but to me, that sounds like I was told [many times...and almost every day in class] that I was too fat and that I would never make it in the dance world, and definitely not in the ballet world. And it killed me. Sometimes I just wanted to go home and let someone who really deserved my spot to be there. But then I thought about leaving my friends, my freedom, and the art world behind and that scared me even more. So I stayed. And I let myself live through that torture for four years. Four years of being a mediocre, fat corps ballet dancer. Never once did I have a solo. Never once was I really truly encouraged. The things that got me through were my friends, my roommate[s], and the people that watched me saying that they could see the passion that I put into my movements, even if it wasn't what it was supposed to look like. And I made it. I graduated, came to Auburn, and started out as a French major.

Then I went to Disney. I remembered why I loved performing. That rush came back, and I needed to be as close to a stage as possible. I needed that background back. So I came back from Disney and switched to the Theatre major. I've been here ever since, and I finally found my place in Auburn. But even my niche in this southern town has it's flaws. Today I remembered. I remembered those four years of being fat and never being really encouraged. Because I know I'm good. I know that I can pick up movement. And I lost fifteen freaking pounds this summer. So why am I still pushed to the back of people's minds? Why am I never remembered? Why am I still Ms. Average Plain Jane? I don't understand. I want it. I want the lead. I want to show the world what I have to offer. I want to dance. So why am I still in the corps? Why am I still not being given the chance to partner?

The saddest part is that all of my old uneasy thoughts came back into my mind: Am I too fat? Do I need to lose weight? What am I doing wrong? How do I fix this? Do I need to be unhealthy again to achieve my goals? Will I ever achieve them? Is this really worth it? Is it worth me bawling my eyes out and getting nothing from trying so hard?

I honestly still don't know. And I'm at a point right now that I need an outlet. I need to let out my frustrations. But my only outlet is dance. And I'm not being given that moment, that chance. Teach me. I want to learn. I want to learn so badly. Please.