I was four years old when I put on my first pair of dancing shoes. Ballet shoes to be specific. And so began a love affair with what I believe is the most perfect art form of all...dance.
A few years of ballet let into a few years of rhythmic gymnastics, and the love affair blossomed.
But life has a way of creating many paths, and the path of dance was not the one I ended up taking.
Once we moved to the U.S. from Portugal, we couldn't afford dance classes for me...and there ended my dreams of becoming a dancer.
It couldn't, however, end my love of the art form. I continued to dance, casually, for fun. At home, creating music videos with my cousins in my grandmother's basement. Later, at night clubs, earning me attention from guys who constantly questioned where a "white girl learned to move like that". I loved to dance, and I was good at it.
As I got older, I stopped going to clubs, and dancing became something that I did less and less of. Unless you count my jam sessions around the house, as I clean and do laundry (which, totally count), I now only dance at the occasional wedding, or party, or on the random event that my girls and I venture for a girls' night out at a dance club.
But my love of dance? It runs deeper than words can express. I have seen every dance movie ever made. No seriously, try me, I've seen it. And as I sit here watching So You Think You Can Dance, with a smile on my face, I can only tell you that this art form tugs at a special place in my heart that I can't quite explain.
I watch this show with a smile on my face, but my box of tissues is never out of reach, because as much as good dance can make me smile, it can bring me to tears just as quickly...and if you don't know what I mean...well, then you're obviously not a dancer (even if it is just in your heart), but the dancers out there, whether you do it professionally, or in the privacy of your own home, I KNOW you KNOW exactly what I mean...