11/30/2010

Ugly Duckling

It took me a while to grow into the woman I was supposed to be.
Mostly because I really thought I could make it work mimicking other peoples' lives.

And it's understandable to some degree. We grow up being asked, "Who are your idols?" The whole drive behind retail marketing is "I want what she has."
And oh man, did that work on me.

I mean, it would have worked better if I'd have had more money :-) but still, it worked. I grew up thinking that there were a whole lot of things that I lacked.

My two, earliest unmet desires I can remember were:

1. I want curly hair
2. I want white bread (I actually wrote this one in a little wish book!)

My hair was pretty and shiny and brown, but straight, and I longed for the cute little curly-q's that I saw on Annie or Shirley Temple.

Also, my mom had a degree in home economics and was a licensed dietitian (darn it). The only white bread we ever saw was when we visited the lake and got some to feed the ducks.  
Don't think I didn't snag a little.

But probably the way this most manifested itself in my life was through gymnastics. I wanted to do gymnastics (and did gymnastics) for as long as I can remember. But, it was always somewhat of a battle for me, as it never seemed to come easy or naturally. But I loved it, and even more, I loved the atmosphere and image that surrounded and associated with it. I loved that people saw me as someone who worked hard, long hours, and sacrificed normal childhood and adolescent stuff to achieve greater accomplishments.

Why I say it didn't come "naturally," is that I really don't think I was built for the sport. I became strong through daily 5 hour workouts, but naturally, had a very weak upper body. I had long arms and very long legs which isn't exactly how most successful gymnasts are built. At least I was fairly short, mostly just because I was a late bloomer, and didn't reach my full height till late in high school.

On the uneven bars and vault, I was really...quite terrible.
I'm not kidding.

I made it work, but it was a struggle. In the lower levels of gymnastics, you compete "compulsory" routines, meaning, everyone does the same exact required moves. I worked hard to complete my compulsory bar and vault routines at an average level, but my bar and vault skills were always about 2 levels below my floor exercise and balance beam skills. When I reached the "optional" levels where you could compose your own routines, I did a little better, working creatively with my weaknesses on these events.

But on the balance beam and floor exercise, I flourished.

I was an adequate tumbler, and liked learning new and creative skills. But really, my strength was in my dancing, and my ability to compose a nicely flowing routine, with a flair that was unique. That is really what carried my whole performance.

See, I was built like a dancer...
...and I resented it so much.

Though I was not that tall, I looked like I was. I had long slender legs and willowy-long arms and long graceful looking fingers. I wanted so badly to be built like a gymnast! I wanted to have short legs so I could run fast and propel myself with power over the vault, instead of running "like a gazelle" as it had been said about me. How embarrassing! I wanted strong arms and shoulders that strength moves on the bars required and thick stubby hands that could better take the wear and tear of swinging around the bars. My delicate hands got blisters so quickly and my long legs made it so difficult to swing in between the bars.

But the reality was, I was not a "powerhouse" as some gymnasts are described.
Even though I squeezed so relentlessly into that mold.

I despised dance class, and would always choose the "wide" mirror because it made me look shorter, stockier, and more muscular -- more like a gymnast! Other than that, I didn't look in mirrors too much, and just imagined myself looking like other girls. It took me well into high school to come to grips with the fact that I probably wasn't going to change my age or genetic structure and qualify for the Olympics, or even a college scholarship. It was until after numerous injuries, setbacks, and comments (which I usually despised) from onlookers about what a beautiful dancer I was, that I finally, slowly, reluctantly, even a bit ashamedly, made the transition to taking dance classes full time.

And oh how I loved it.

I started out taking mostly ballet classes, as the discipline and rigidity of the form was familiar to how I had trained as a gymnast. Eventually in college, but mostly after college, I started tackling other forms like jazz, modern, and even improvisational -- which is a lot like free choreography -- what I loved most about gymnastics.

I felt like the ugly ducking who had found her true family.

What is most difficult, and what I love the most about improvisation and choreography is that I can't copy it from anyone else. Instead of mimicking a movement or style, I get to display, in the form of dance, the uniqueness that was built into me...(and sometimes I even sneak in a gymnastics move or two).

What a gift...and a privilege.


 My "idol" circa 1992, Kim Zmeskal

High School Gymnastics - circa 1999

2 comments:

  1. Thank you for trying to teach me how to cartwheel a million times.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Wow, this is wonderful. Great writing. You should do it more. Can relate to trying to be a million things beside myself. I wonder why we always think that what we are is not as good as what we are not. So sad. But I'm thrilled you found yourself. Me and many others who have benefited from your dance are the better for it.

    ReplyDelete