Closet Ballerina

When I was just a very little girl, my favorite thing in the world was Ballerinas. I spent every day running about in a pink leotard and tights and slippers, dancing and spinning and pretending to be graceful. I had a book of ballerina paper dolls. You were supposed to cut the out and put the different dresses on the different ballerinas. I never let a scissors touch my wonderful book of ballerinas, either because I didn't want to ruin them or because I didn't quite understand  the concept of what I was supposed to do with them. Either way, I spent hours in my room looking at that book. I would slowly turn the pages and study all of the dresses, picking out my favorite ones and imagining them on my favorite of the ballerinas. My imagination took steps even further. I imagined that I could watch them dance. I could hear the music and see the dresses twirling. There were men ballerinas in the book as well and I picked out my favorite man for my favorite lady to dance with. So badly I wanted to dance just like they did and wear outfits like those. So many times my mom asked me if I wanted to take dance classes and I was always too shy to say yes. I always said no and I always wished that I'd had the courage to try.