Gemotions

The email arrived at precisely 6:00 a.m. – the time she’d set her alarm to wake for pre-dawn training. It was a swift, dismissive rejection from the ballet company. As she walked to the mirror, she saw her own reflection, and was immediately unimpressed. A face of exhaustion, of disappointment, of utter frustration. She felt a knot in her stomach.

She considered turning back around. She considered not going to class.

She went to class.

She watched the other dancers, their graceful movements a constant, unwelcome reminder of her own failure. Every plié, every pirouette, felt like a deliberate taunt. She barely held it together. The next day, she went back. And the day after that. She would be better, she told herself. She had to be.