Tease Tips – Lessons in life, love and the art of tease

By Michelle L’amour

Excuses are inexcusable.

I know that you think I write these tips for you, but I write them for me! I need them just as much as you do, especially this one.

While I don’t like to admit it, I can easily come up with an excuse for why I’m not doing something. This one hit home for me this month when it came to taking ballet class. I haven’t been to class in years, and if you know anything about ballet, you know you might as well start from scratch. While I do dance for a living and keep my body moving on the regular, ballet is a different animal. There are these tiny, tiny little muscles that are responsible for extension, flexibility and strength. These muscles don’t get touched in my burlesque bumps and grinds. Well… they get ‘touched’ but you know what I mean!

So it started out years ago when I let the classes fall away. I became ‘too busy’. My line, ‘I’m too busy dancing to dance!’ I mean, I thought that was pretty clever. But, my truth was that I was too nervous to get back into class. I didn’t want to face what I didn’t know and what I had lost. If you don’t use those muscles, it takes murderous effort to get them back and I just didn’t want to confront that. Then it was the issue of not wanting to be recognized**. I knew that I was in such a state that if someone recognized me in class, I knew they wouldn’t be seeing me at my best. They would be seeing me in a really vulnerable state. The excuses just kept building and piling on. Even in my best attempts, I would allow something to get in the way. ‘Oh, I have a meeting’ or ‘I need to meet up with my friend’ or ‘I’m too tired’, etc. The whole time this hole in my heart was growing. I missed class so much! Well, this month, I said, enough is enough!

I went back to class this month, and ya know what, I didn’t suck…that bad, anyway. I walked into my old studio and I felt butterflies. I walked into the dressing room and the smell of feet, sweat, exertion, exhaustion, dreams and heartache flooded my memory. Immediately, tears came to my eyes. I remembered this feeling. I remembered the camaraderie amongst the students as we reflected on our own performance in class. Were we going to make it? Could we really become dancers? Going over what we could have done better, or being proud that we nailed that triple pirouette. All of it came back.

I put on my shiny new ballet shoes. Embarrassingly pink. (Every good dancer knows that dirty shoes with frayed fabric and holes are really the best shoes.) I walked up the stairs to the studio. I heard the sounds of other classes being taught. The piano being played for the class before mine. I watched and I cried again. I was so overwhelmed with joy. I was hoping I would make it through class without crying but I grabbed some tissue just in case and went into the studio and took my place at the barre.

Then I heard familiar words. Words that I hadn’t heard in years. Temps lié, pas de cheval, écarté, all done in time with the pianist. I was home and I was happy. I can’t believe I stayed away from it so long. It was in ballet class that I first felt beautiful and that feeling was coming back to me, but it was different than before. I had made it as a dancer. This is my living. I can just do this for pure joy and not be afraid about not being good enough. I am already enough.

We all know the excuses are just excuses. The one I loathe the most is ‘I’m too busy’. That’s a sure way to illicit an eye roll from me. Speaking as one of the busiest people I know, that one just falls flat on its face for me. We are all busy. If you want something to happen, make it happen. Recognize when those excuses are just getting in the way of your true joy.  Shove them to the side and go get what’s waiting for you!

**Now, this is not something that happens very often, but usually when I get recognized it’s at a grocery store or I’m doing some mundane task, usually not wearing makeup or wearing the best clothes. Anyway, I got all the way thru the class and at the end, I was walking out and someone stopped me and said, ‘Are you Michelle L’amour?’ Oh dear. I’ve been found out! Exactly what I didn’t want to happen, happened! And it happened again the next week while I was changing in the dressing room. Cannot believe it! But, it’s ok! Everything’s ok! It’s not going to stop me from trying and doing something that makes me happy. Want to see me fall out of a turn? Come to ballet class with me!