Being Myself

When I was younger, I was always Lou's grand daughter, Weeze's daughter, Danielle's older sister, Annie's friend. Even though I was the oldest, I didn't fit in, and I was always in the shadows. I was the semi-tall, lanky girl growing up. I wasn't the star athlete, I wasn't the model daughter. I didn't have many friends. I was always compared to my younger sister, always held up to the same standard as my childhood best friend (even though, at times, it seemed like I was more of a tag along with her, as if she only tolerated me).
As I entered young adulthood, I became more comfortable within myself. I was no longer lanky, but willowy and graceful. I was still Danielle's older sister, though, and now I was also Ashley's sister as the youngest girl in the family found her footing as an athlete. It is tough being the invisible sister, living in the shadows of your younger siblings' accomplishments. Even today I find myself occasionally suppressing the urge to introduce myself as Danielle's older sister.
Even as my professional career took flight as easily as I would glide across the stage, I came second. What I was doing wouldn't bring home trophies, wouldn't bring home awards or gold medals. Opening night of my first professional solo, Carmen, was the same night as a soccer tournament. Guess where the family was. The biggest night of my career and they missed it, I was second fiddle, again, to my younger sister.
I took refuge in dance. I preferred the solitude of the studio at the end of the day over the crowded, hot soccer field. I chose to have a salad and bottled water by the CD player in a hot studio over going to the mall for lunch with the in crowd.
For years, there was one place I was myself, one place I could step out of their shadow. Even there, they would try to make it about them. I preferred that they weren't in attendance, because it was just me, not my sisters, not my mom, no one else, just me, the shoes, the music, and the audience.
The quiet, graceful discipline of the dance. I was free to be myself.
I knew my final performance would be my last, at least for a while, and I invited those I wanted there, even though no one else knew it was my last. I did not invite my family. I danced for myself and my partner that night, and, for the audience. It was our signature show, the one he and I perfected and performed every year, my favorite. Romeo and Juliet.
Being with Master makes me feel like the Prima I once was, mentally. I can be myself, I am not trying to be just Danielle's sister. I am myself. I am free to be myself, and not have to hide any of it, or take a back seat to someone else's dreams. I am special just because of who I am, not who my family is. I am no longer a Diva in a house full of Prima Donas.
I sometimes wish Master knew me back when I was dancing. I would love to see the pride in His eyes watching me perform. Even if He does not enjoy ballet, which He does not, I think it would be different if He could see me on the stage.