No music, just me and my reflection in the mirror.
I moved slowly through each step like I was pouring all the sweet, sour, and bitter moments of these years into every movement.
After finishing the final step, I took a deep bow. That bow wasn’t just for the past—it was a goodbye and a hope for what’s next.
With less than a week before I left, I started sorting through the things I needed to sell.
To make some extra cash, I applied for a part-time teaching gig at a nearby ballet dance academy three months ago.
“Your fundamentals are awesome,” the instructor said after watching me demonstrate. “When can you start teaching?”
“Anytime,” I told her.
So, just like that, I started my nine-to-five teaching schedule. Mostly basic classes, with kids and teens as my students.
Watching them practice so earnestly, I saw a glimpse of my younger self.
Sometimes, I’d come across kids who truly loved dancing. The pure passion in their eyes reminded me of how I’d felt when I first started dancing—so simple, so pure, untainted by anything else.