I’m not a dancer …

but I love to dance.

I never learned ballet, but in my daydreams I move with grace. Sometimes, people tell me I’m no good singer, that my movements are not graceful, in the past I even have been told I’m ugly. But when I dance, alone, I feel free, I fly away from this. Dancing is about letting go and finding control. It’s about feeling every inch of your body, and finding balance, finding the courage to lift off. In my dreams, I’m on the stage, I’m flying upwards through the clouds towards the sun, I’m dancing in the middle of a desert to a music so profound and so much more than skin deep. I’m the midnight dancer, the purple storm, the girl with the poi in fiery colours conjuring an oriental blaze. When I dance, I feel alive. I feel at ease. I start to love my body, my life, and I dare to embrace my dreams.The tingling warmth melting the cold out off my joints, the increased need of oxygen, the enhanced sensation of everything, and the heavy breathing when cooling down again.

Life can feel so easy.

I’m no dancer, but sometimes I am. Because the music turns me into one. Sometimes, I’m just a dancer, like sometimes the air is ionized and becomes a lightning bolt. For the blink of an eye, there is this power. There is this freedom, and knowing that in this moment only one thing is relevant. To dance. To celebrate being alive. Making every breath a song.

Today, I am a dancer.


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