Things started to change about mid-semester. I started to notice that my legs were more toned than they were eight weeks before. I could hold my leg higher, point my toes harder, balance in the center so that I could perform the sequences. It was getting better.

So then I wanted to be better. I would get home from a long day at school and make my husband watch me practice my ballet moves in our eight by twelve living room. I would move the coffee table and use a chair from our kitchen table as my barre. I would talk Jon through the movements as I did them...saying the names of each one, and he would watch...both me and the TV in between, but he was my audience and I practiced in front of him.

I started to realize that after I practiced the night before, I would feel different in class the next time. I wasn't so worried about what came next in the sequence...instead, I could dance the sequence. I was starting to perform. I stopped watching the other girls in class for where to go to next, and started leading myself through the movements. I started to concentrate more, to think ahead, to figure out what I needed to work on so that the next class was even better...and it was.

Each class made me a better dancer...my technique and my confidence. Instead of worrying about just getting through that semester of ballet classes, I started thinking about moving to the next level...taking the advanced class. I was determined to make that happen.