40 minutes

It's like this.

He pointed at his watch, and I must admit, I was thoroughly confused.

These 20 minutes, they're the time you are dancing. The other 40 minutes, that's the rest of your life. The more you allow yourself to have 40 minutes, the more enriched those 20 minutes can and will become.

Wow. You might just have a point.

Dance isn't everything, you know?

And I never thought I would ever let someone say that to me. But you did. And just hearing those words suddenly lifted a huge weight off my chest. Shocked by the lack of rage in myself at hearing something so "unjust," I could do nothing to stop it. I know you didn't understand why I was smiling ear to ear, and why it was probably the biggest smile you've ever seen from me, but apparently I needed someone to tell me that. I feel better. Thank you.

I don't see any physical limitation. I see you limiting yourself. It's all in your head.

Truth. Again, thank you. That's so wonderful and so terrible to hear all at once. And ya, you're right, I could see it. In the video, the moments when I stopped thinking about what my body is or isn't capable of, those were the moments I was really moving. When I was struggling to be perfect and fit inside the box of what I believe I need to be, I wasn't successful at being that or anything else.

You're absolutely right. I need to let go. I need to start trusting myself. I need to keep working hard, but I need to stop being the harshest critic I have ever met. I need to believe I can do this, because the rest of you think I can.

You looked me right in the eyes when you said it all. You meant it. I could see that, and that is huge.

Okay. I'm going to give it a whirl. Time to grow up. Time to shut up everything I've been told about who and what I am. They don't know me anymore. They were wrong. I know me. And I can do this. 

And maybe, just maybe, I'll start making time for myself, that doesn't involve dance. But that's going to take some work. One thing at a time...