The creative arts is my form of meditation

Growing up, I have always been very critical of myself. I always felt I had to be the best that I could be in dance, which was something I was passionate about. School was extremely difficult for me, as I have a number of learning disabilities, and was living in chronic pain. I felt so alone, and I knew I didn't fit in. It always bothered me that I was heavier than other students, and I was on a diet at the age of 6. I had a parent who was very judgmental and hypocritical, to the point inappropriate comments were made to me regularly. I was unhappy with  myself because I was different from everyone. I hated that I had medical conditions, that consumed most of my childhood, and I felt family members only viewed me as, "the girl that has too many medical problems and has learning issues"

There was one thing that made me happy, and it was dance. There was something about using movements to tell a story that I always loved. There was never a right or wrong to dancing, it's a form expression. Tap dance was what I loved, and there was something about the repitious patterns and sounds you make with your feet that captivated me. I remember being in English class and having a teacher ask me to stop tapping my feet as it was too much noise and movement for a classroom setting. I never saw anything wrong with constantly moving around, until I was diagnosed with ADHD 10 years later. I look back, and can finally understand why I needed to be constantly moving. Dance was meeting the needs of my hyperactivity, and I was able to concentrate on what I was doing. 

I was always practicing, as I wanted to be the best that I could be. Nothing else was going well for me; I was bullied in school for my weight, learning disabilities, and RSD. And to top it off, I was emotionally and verbally abused by my teachers, and a family member. I have one vivid memory of a teacher tell my parents and I personally, "good luck with your daughter, she's a fuck up". Hearing that would kill any child's self esteem, especially when you know you're different. The dance studio  was my safe place. I knew I could get away from reality for a couple of hours and express myself. It was a judgement free zone, where I knew I could be myself. 

At the end of my first semester of senior year, I had to make a difficult choice and walk away from dance. It was becoming to physically demanding for the RSD, and I was having more issues with flares and treatment. For so long, I was angry that this disease took away something that I was passionate about, but in the end where does anger get you? I miss dancing a lot, but have learned other ways to use the creative arts to be able to express myself. I have always loved to paint, and have found this as my form of self care and meditation. I love to make things for others, as seeing someone's response to the piece is one of the best parts of creating it. I've also noticed I have enjoyed to write. When I am able to write my thoughts and feelings down, it feels as if a weight has been lifted off my chest. 

Because I have found other ways to express myself, my anger has diminished that dance was taken away from me by the RSD. It takes a while to comprehend that there are other things in life that can still make you happy. It's always hard to adapt to change, especially when it is something you didn't expect. I may despise this disease, but I am glad it has shaped me to be the best person I can be. This includes learning how to take care of myself, and learn hobbies that will hopefully develop into things I am passionate about.