Those who know me, know that when I was a girl I wanted nothing more than to be a ballerina. I yearned to buy used toe shoes and dance around my kitchen; I would lace my shoes in a criss-cross up my legs, and watch captivated anytime dancers came on TV. I loved ballet.
The closest I ever got to a dance studio was one day when I was seven or eight: we went into a studio near my school, and I sat and watched a class of girls even younger than me at the barre. My mom discussed the class fees with the teacher, and we promptly left. Nothing more was ever said of it; I understood that with seven people and no money, dance classes were a luxury we couldn't afford. So, I dreamed wistfully of dancing. By the time I started doing musical theatre, my brain seemed hardwired for clumsiness. I stumbled through choreography, learning steps slower than everyone else in a sort of antithesis to the dancer I had always wanted to be. I gave up the idea of ever being one of those graceful, willowy creatures I had always admired.
Still, there is a part of me that still yearns for that world, and anytime a ballet film comes out, I feel a draw. Natalie Portman does much of her own dancing for Black Swan: she spent close to a year preparing for the role in everything from workouts to dance training to diet. She lived the life of a ballerina to truly become one onscreen. Whether the film is wonderful or terrible, I think I will have to see it. No matter what my body says, ballet lives in my heart.
