~*Seven Years*~

It is a moment captured in time.

A child in black spandex and silver spangles,

Shoulders bare and wild blonde curls barely controlled,

Lips a bright, slick red, daring for a child of ten.

She kneels, trying to look alluring,

Trying to look confident and beautiful.

Slightly crooked teeth are bared in a wide smile

And eyes sparkle bright green under too-heavy mascara.

She will be famous.

She will be beautiful.

She will be triumphant.

There is no pain; there is only hope.

It is a moment captured in time.

A girl who is almost a woman,

A look of concentration in her eyes

And a straight, false smile on her face.

The curls are gone, severely pulled into a bun,

And the heavy make-up wears easily now.

She wears dark green and gold velvet,

An empire waist with a transparent skirt,

Legs encased in pink tights

And pink satin shoes, lifting her to her toes,

Almost effortless except the look of those bright green eyes.

She makes a tall, graceful line,

With trained elegance placing her arms and chin.

She is tired.

She is hurting.

She is triumphant.

Now there is pain, but hope remains.

Between these moments stretch seven years

Of performances under bright lights

And applause.

Between these moments stretch seven years

Of endless classes,

Sweltering and exhausted

As she stretches her muscles into the unnatural

Lines of the dance,

The hours and hours

When nobody clapped.

Between these moments stretch seven years

Of careful diets,

Making excuses not to eat dessert

And counting calories religiously.

Between these moments stretch seven years

Of discipline, pain and tears,

Of toe shoes and tutus,

Of laughter and nerves and waiting in the wings,

Of soaring over a black stage,

Of roses and applause,

Of injuries and pain and blood,

Of wooden floors and mirrors at every angle

To catch the smallest mistake.

Between these moments stretch seven years

When there were no parties, no friends,

No girlish secrets,

Only classes and shouting teachers

And discipline.

Seven years of sacrifice.

Seven years of leotards.

Seven years of the heady pleasure of flight.

Seven years of unending pliés.

Seven years of aching muscles.

Seven years of hopes, dreams and fears.

Seven years of conformity.

Seven years of soaring freedom.