I went back to dance class and my inner critic had a lot to say about it...
AND mama's still got it!
Before we dive in a reminder that the FREE 5-day pelvic floor challenge starts TODAY! Have you signed up yet? It’s not too late! Click here and start on your path to stronger muscles, better sex, and confident sneezes.
Ok, now that we have that settled, you’re signed up, and ready to tap into your physical and energetic powerhouse that IS your pelvic floor, I want to update you on where I’m at on my path to loving my body again after deciding to no longer dance professionally, being pregnant with Everett, having my undercarriage torn in two, and then having a postpartum = covid lockdown nervous breakdown.
I am at a fork in the road. I’m standing right in between being absolutely blown away by my resilience, strength, and agility AND avoiding the mirror so I don’t have to see this foreign body in the mirror again. There. I said it.
I am not immune to the conditioning we’ve all experienced. In fact, my 35+ years spent staring at my body in a leotard in the mirror make me hyper aware of every single difference, every change, every shift, everything that would NOT book me in any upcoming production of A Chorus Line. Those costumes are not, I repeat, NOT forgiving. Whether or not I nailed the opening combo.
And I am standing right in the center of this right now. I mean, both things are true. This body still feels like it’s someone else’s and it wholly feels mine as I remember every ache, pain, opening, closing, healing, and expanding move it’s made.
Two weeks ago Everett turned three. I was in the city that day and a midday meeting was canceled leaving me with an open afternoon and no plans. So I did what any reasonable person would do…I signed up for a dance class. To celebrate the big day. And it just so happened my friend Natalie Malotke teaches a theater class at Broadway Dance Center DURING MY BREAK. I did not plan to go to class, I did not bring dance shoes, I did not wear an outfit I was prepared to see staring back at me from the mirror, and I still went to class.
Holy smokes, walking into BDC after so many years was…a lot. So many memories and also it was a warm welcome home. I got to class, was a few minutes late so jumped into the warm up and my body knew exactly what to do. We did plies and tendus, there were grapevines and jumping jacks (yes, I had to hold my boobs) and every time I looked in the mirror the first thing I saw was a huge shit eating grin on my face.
I LOVE DANCING.
And guess what? I’m still REALLY GOOD AT IT! Even with the extra el-bees, bigger boobs, saggier whatever, special hips that’s x many years older now. MAMA’S STILL GOT IT!
As my internal dialogue shifted away from how I used to look and embraced how good it felt to be returning home to the studio, dancing, myself I became so keenly aware of how far I’ve come.
Once I started moving I didn’t once think about…
…Whether or not would fart by accident
…How I looked in my Athleta mombod outfit not chosen specifically for dance class
…What anyone was thinking about me
I felt free.
And I danced my heart out, and people came up to me and complimented me on my dancing and my energy. And I complimented them right back. And I left the studio feeling more myself, stronger, fuller, taking up all the space in the world that is mine.
And I kept coming back to something I talked to Meagan Fitzgerald about on my podcast, how we can’t control so much in life, but we can control the volume of our own self criticism. We can’t turn it off (hello toxic positivity), but we can choose when to turn down the volume on the negative self-talk and turn the volume up on how amazing it feels to embody our bodies and our lives.
Listen to the full conversation here.
My experience in dance class is one of the reasons I needed to run the pelvic floor challenge again. I am still really proud of myself that I’ve healed to the point of fearlessly dancing without worrying I’m accidentally going to fart when I jump or do a high kick. I can be present in the moment as I dance my heart out doing what I love. Which is no small feat after having your b-hole torn in two!
I want this for you too.
I want you to be able to do what you love without worrying about pain, peeing, or losing control/being controlled by your body. I know this sounds salesy, and I guess it’s because I’m technically “selling” this even though it’s free, but it’s because I believe that you, and all women, deserve to feel safe, knowledgeable, and at home in your body.
If this sounds good to you, click here. And if you’re good, don’t click! Maybe send it to a friend, or don’t! Live your life!
And always remember, I’ve got your back. I’ve got your front. And I’ve got your undercarriage.
Xo, Alissa