When I was three years old, one morning I walked into my parents’ bedroom. My mom was still lying in her bed. It was a weekend day, so she didn’t have to get up early. She asked: “What would you like to do? Do you want to learn an instrument at a music school, or do you want to do ballet?” I hesitated for a short while. Then I said: “Ballet.” I didn’t really know why. Back then, I didn’t even know what ballet was. I guess, it just felt right. I remember being full of excitement that day and not wanting to stop twirling around in the living room, even if I already was completely dizzy. My mom made true to her promise and brought me to the closest ballet school in town, where she registered me. I can recall some pretty fun exercises we did in ballet class. We waved our arms, like wings of a butterfly, pretended to be mermaids and leaped over a pretended big puddle while throwing our arms in the air imagining we’d throw confetti. It was so much fun and everything about ballet appeared pink and glittery. Over time, I had to realize that those impressions were not even close to reality, Still, I enjoyed every class and ballet started to become more important to me. I began to practice and stretch whenever I could, read a lot of ballet books and looked forward to every single class as a highlight of the week. Later, I was allowed to start dancing on pointe, got to assist my ballet teacher and danced solo parts in recitals. At that point, I was super happy. Until something came along the way that I never would have expected. Something that pulled the rug out from under my feet. 

Since I could remember, it seemed like a matter of fact to me that we were living in this little town and I just assumed this would never change. Of course, I had some acquaintances move before, but I never thought that I would be the one leaving my friends and my home behind someday until it happened. But different from old friends of mine, who just moved into cities close by, my family and I would move to an entirely different continent. The thought of leaving everything behind and having to start all over again scared me. During this time, I was very sad. Different from the assumptions of others, I was mainly upset about letting my ballet school and all the people there behind. The ballet studio had always been something like a home to me. Whatever happened before class, when I arrived at the studio all the thoughts that I came through the door with disappeared into a cloud of happiness and excitement. I could let everything drop and do what I love while being surrounded by people I cared for. This studio and the teacher had always seemed like one of the few constant things in my life. While the kindergarten and elementary school were flying past me, the ballet studio had stayed the same. I wasn’t ready to let go of that. Instead, I tried to keep my happy place as long as I could, but at some point, I had to tell my teacher about it. She was very surprised. But, to my surprise, she reacted with excitement. In addition to that, she gave me courage, offered help and was very supportive.

Time was running and soon the break began. It was oppressing to know that after this break I wouldn’t return to school or the ballet studio. Soon, the day of my last class at the studio came. It felt strange to see myself and the other girls in the mirror together one last time before we would be separated for so long. When I walked through the studio’s door the last time, it felt sad and like a very important chapter of my life was ending. But I knew that I’ll always like to look back at it and most importantly, take a lot of things and also a few people out of the chapter with me into the next one. 

When I had my first official ballet lesson at my new dance school, I realized that I would have to catch up a lot, because the others were way more advanced than I was. My teacher was making sure this happened by giving me a whole bunch of corrections every class. At first, I didn’t like being pointed out and getting the most corrections of all the students, but over time, I realized that being corrected so frequently was a blessing. Without having my ballet teacher so relentlessly correcting me, I probably wouldn’t have caught up with the others by now and my dancing would be a lot worse. Albeit, my teacher had to be slightly annoyed sometimes when she needed to give me the same correction multiple times, she kept pushing me, and now I am grateful for all her endurance.

One of the other classes was very difficult for me too and even though I loved that class at the beginning of the year, I started to get very frustrated. That frustration did not come from the high demands of the class but was caused by the corrections of the teacher. I admired her because she was a nice person and a fabulous dancer but I felt like she played favorites during the lessons and corrected the students, who weren’t amongst the favorites, only on very obvious and basic things, like when someone started an exercise having the wrong foot in front. This pulled me down because I tried to work hard and was willing to take criticism in order to improve, but was mostly ignored. Weeks were passing and I just tried to suck up the frustration. Someday, it occurred to me that I had to do something because if I wasn’t getting corrections that enabled me to improve, it wasn’t the problem of the teacher. I was the one needing improvement. Even though I knew it was the right thing to do, I wasn’t sure if I should talk to her. Most of the other girls in class were dealing with all of this too and they were just fine. But maybe the others were afraid, like me. Maybe the others weren’t right by doing nothing to change the circumstances. It took me some time to actually be brave enough, but one day, I finally walked up to my teacher after class. I told her that I was very serious about ballet and had the aspiration to become a ballet dancer later on. In order to do so, I would need to improve a lot and right now, I wasn’t satisfied with the improvement I witnessed. Then I finally came to speak about my request for more corrections. The teacher seemed slightly surprised. Even though she reacted in a pleasant way, I am not sure what impression I made on her. Maybe, that’s not even relevant, because in the following classes she corrected me very specifically and sometimes stood beside me just waiting for the next mistake to occur. In the end, the conversation had a positive outcome for me. Not only, I was being corrected more, but also I started to learn how to speak up for myself.  

In the past year so many things happened. I performed at a great and partly chaotic recital, passed an examen, worked harder than ever, met some incredible, talented teachers and also some of my kindest friends, who are very good dancers as well, and became even more obsessed with ballet while being lucky enough to witness constant support from the people at my former dance school. Throughout the year, I even overcame the greatest concern I had before moving. I was afraid that I would learn to love everything here so much that I would not value the time I had at my former ballet studio anymore or that I could neglect my ballet friends from there. Indeed, I like my new ballet school, and I adore my teachers and all the students. Also, my outlook on things at my former ballet school has changed enormously, but that doesn’t mean I am not grateful for the time there. This studio has been a good home to me for so many years and gave me some extremely valuable people, whom I still have contact with. It still feels like my home, the place where everything began. I guess, this will never change, regardless of how much I enjoy being here. A lesson I learned from this is that you don’t always have to make a decision. 

Now I’ve told my entire story of ballet, but what I didn’t make clear is why I love it so much, even though it usually is a stressful and hard business. Well, ballet has so many things and elements about it that make it lovely and which compensate all the hard work and sacrifices. Moving to the music makes me feel calm and gracious. Playing a different character and telling a story gives me space for showing emotions and exploring different facets of myself while getting away from my own personality for a while. This enables me to let go of any pressure that's weighing me down and explore different mindsets. The movements in ballet let me hold my head up high and be confident, which I am oftentimes not outside of the studio. Having a given choreography and knowing proper technique makes me feel in control since I know exactly what comes next and I feel secure about what I’m doing. Dancing helped me go through rough times, cope with emotions and reach a piece of control when everything around was chaos. Ballet has given me some of the most remarkable and funniest memories I’ve collected so far or at least made the worst ones more bearable. It taught me a lot and even though it’s just a sport as well as an art form, those lessons are amongst the most useful ones outside of the studio. It has influenced me and let me become who I am now. I am so grateful for the impact ballet has had and still has on me and I couldn’t imagine going through life without it.

If I had decided differently on that weekend morning when I was three, my life wouldn’t be what it is now. That doesn’t necessarily mean something bad. Maybe, music would be my passion or something completely different. Or I wouldn’t be passionate about anything. Possibly, I would just be wandering around life, not having an actual goal in my head. Probably, the latter would have been way easier than exactly knowing what you want. Satisfaction would always be within reach. I would have made different experiences and met other people. But no matter how my life would be if I had said a word other than ballet back when I was three, I am glad it is not. Every step on this path, no matter how exhausting it is or how bumpy the road may be, feels exactly right. For me, that’s what turns a hobby into a passion.