what i let them steal (from me)

wednesday, december 24, 2008 at 3:45am 

to my diary (on facebook)

someone asked:

“when did you and ‘ana’ first hook-up?”

i paused.

(chest tightened)

breathe.

i thought about childhood

(inhaler)

the illusion of control

the vain attempts to break my mother (an ana out of control)

i drifted.

flashbacks.

breathe.

moments.

moments long ago.

was it ballet?

was it me?

was it mom?

was it he?

the him that loved me (while he was pretending to be with

mom)?

breathe.

(you can handle this)

breathe.

flashback.

suddenly, it fell.

the barrier

i

held so long

i friended ana at 3, when i friended ballet

but, only later did she become

my very closest friend

breathe

together, we had control

(it came together)

so beautiful

so strong

i trusted them

I put my faith in

their beauty

their strength

i let them in

i let them take me

to places

i’d never known

so beautiful

so strong

both of them, lean and long

strong

in control

bold

beautiful

everything I could ever want

(the source of all my pain)

i danced

i danced hard

i did everything that was asked of me

i did everything I was told

i lived

in the studio

i lived

to dance

so beautiful

so strong

stretching

every inch of my body

stretching

each atom

of my soul

someone asked:

when i became friends with ana?

and i realized…

“what i let them steal from me…”

“who?” they asked

“ana and my mom’s ex-bf (the beautiful abuser).”

together.

they stole everything from me.

they stole my body.

they stole my feelings.

they stole

BALLET

“breathe”

and

i

let

them

steal

it

i let them steal

all that I loved

i let them steal

all my work

i let them steal

the “me”

from

me

SUDDENLY

i realized

i had potential

i had a chance

to be

better

than average

better

than good

better

than most

maybe

just

maybe

i might have joined with

some of

the best

i realized

ana kept me from becoming

the dancer i could have been

i as so lucky

the best teachers

the best classes

the right bones

the right frame

the right muscle (potentially)

the right drive

the right face and hair and breasts and bones

i had the turnout (which i worked for)

i had the determination (which i paid for)

i had the attitude (which a cultivated)

i had the city (where the opportunities begin)

i had

everything you need

to

compete

but…

i let them steal it all from me

ANA insisted

i endure each class void of the fuel necessary to excel

ANA insisted

muscle was the enemy, preventing me from growing stronger

ANA insisted

pain was my goal, ensuring constant discomfort

how can you achieve

when you are always light-headed?

how can you win

when you are always jittery, shaky, and weak?

as hard as I worked

as determined as i lived

i could never find

that extra 10 percent that separates the good

from

the elite.

that extra 10 percent takes you from class to a company

“breathe.”

i sobbed.

“i let them steal from me.”

“i let them steal it all from me.”

i

was

weak.

what i let them steal.

(i think)
i shall
let them steal
no
more.
no.

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