In under one month I will be celebrating one year of having hoop dance in my life and the beginning of a beautiful and emotional journey, that ended up being the catalyst for releasing a life's worth of pain and emotion through dance.
My mother always said "Everything happens for a reason" and although it was tough at times to see all of the reasons for things that occurred in my life, I can honestly say that they are now clearer and cleaner than ever...all of them.
My mother always said "Everything happens for a reason" and although it was tough at times to see all of the reasons for things that occurred in my life, I can honestly say that they are now clearer and cleaner than ever...all of them.
I grew up in a broken home, the youngest of my siblings. Five years younger than my brother, ten and eleven years younger than my sisters. Three fathers between the four of us.
Our mother was a strong, beautiful and spiritual woman.
Anyone lucky enough to cross paths with her in life fell in love with her energy. She lived life exactly how she wanted to, moved us when a place no longer suited her, and died in January of 2013 just the way she wanted to...flawlessly beautiful and out of the hands of doctors and medicine. She died on 80 acres of her own land in Arizona, 40 minutes from the closest town, no electricity or running water, at the age of 63.
Anyone lucky enough to cross paths with her in life fell in love with her energy. She lived life exactly how she wanted to, moved us when a place no longer suited her, and died in January of 2013 just the way she wanted to...flawlessly beautiful and out of the hands of doctors and medicine. She died on 80 acres of her own land in Arizona, 40 minutes from the closest town, no electricity or running water, at the age of 63.
My father was a Vietnam Veteran, I was his only child. He was a charming, handsome and funny man, but a tortured soul. He struggled with mental disorders and alcohol abuse nearly his whole life and after 15 years of sobriety and 15 years of being reconnected with him, he died with his hand in mine of COPD, at the age of 64 in March of 2013...less than three months after my mother.
I am a wife and a mother of two boys, age 15 and 3. I settled and started working in Bristol 16 years ago, at the age of 19. I was born in CT and it was my 32nd move coming back here in 1997. Half of those moves were on my own, due to catching a bit of my mother's "gypsy bug", the other half from being bounced place to place and from parent to parent.
I was sexually abused as a child for a number of years. When I finally decided to tell, I was still too young to testify against my abuser and the case was dismissed.
I grew up having flashbacks and recurring dreams of my abuse. I struggled with suicidal thoughts, body image and eating disorders as a teenager and turned to drugs and alcohol to forget the pain of the things I had endured and was reliving.
Although I easily made friends everywhere I moved, I always felt disconnected.
Never a part of something.
An outsider looking in.
No sense of community.
Never realizing that the "in" I wanted the ticket so badly to, was myself.
I struggled my whole life for that ticket, I took endless prescription medications to find it and spent over a decade in therapy searching for a way to get through that door.
I wasn't ready to be let in.
I didn't want the ticket.
I wasn't ready to let go of my past.
When I lost my parents, I lost myself.
I lost the talks I thought we'd have and the healing that would come from them.
I lost the chance to tell them that although difficult, I was thankful for all of the hardships I endured growing up. They made me a stronger, more forgiving person and more nurturing and caring mother, wife and woman.
I crumbled because of that loss and the weight of the memories of my past crushed me.
I too died in March of 2013, shortly after my mother and father passed.
With that death, came a rebirth.
A reason to not let my past control me any longer.
A reason to let go.
A reason to forgive.
A reason to find my voice.
A reason to find community.
A reason to want to make a difference.
A reason to tell my story.
I decided to finally take that ticket that I had been resisting for so long.
The ticket came in the form of an adult-sized child's toy and that "toy" not only helped me to reconnect with the girl I had lost as a child but the woman I am today and the person I want to be tomorrow.
I took and embraced that ticket with open arms and I danced. I danced and I began to share that dance with everyone willing to jump in with me.
It took me a long time to find that ticket.
To find that courage.
To dance.
I am hopeful that my dance, my journey and my story, will help you to let yours out.
Maybe not with words, but somehow in some way, sooner than you knew you could and I hope that I can be there to witness it, and to give you a hug when that release finally comes.
You don't have to be a trained dancer to dance, you just need to be willing to let your story out.
Steph
To read more about what the Just Flow Fun studio could offer CT residents, click HERE
I was sexually abused as a child for a number of years. When I finally decided to tell, I was still too young to testify against my abuser and the case was dismissed.
I grew up having flashbacks and recurring dreams of my abuse. I struggled with suicidal thoughts, body image and eating disorders as a teenager and turned to drugs and alcohol to forget the pain of the things I had endured and was reliving.
Although I easily made friends everywhere I moved, I always felt disconnected.
Never a part of something.
An outsider looking in.
No sense of community.
Never realizing that the "in" I wanted the ticket so badly to, was myself.
I struggled my whole life for that ticket, I took endless prescription medications to find it and spent over a decade in therapy searching for a way to get through that door.
I wasn't ready to be let in.
I didn't want the ticket.
I wasn't ready to let go of my past.
When I lost my parents, I lost myself.
I lost the talks I thought we'd have and the healing that would come from them.
I lost the chance to tell them that although difficult, I was thankful for all of the hardships I endured growing up. They made me a stronger, more forgiving person and more nurturing and caring mother, wife and woman.
I crumbled because of that loss and the weight of the memories of my past crushed me.
I too died in March of 2013, shortly after my mother and father passed.
With that death, came a rebirth.
A reason to not let my past control me any longer.
A reason to let go.
A reason to forgive.
A reason to find my voice.
A reason to find community.
A reason to want to make a difference.
A reason to tell my story.
I decided to finally take that ticket that I had been resisting for so long.
The ticket came in the form of an adult-sized child's toy and that "toy" not only helped me to reconnect with the girl I had lost as a child but the woman I am today and the person I want to be tomorrow.
I took and embraced that ticket with open arms and I danced. I danced and I began to share that dance with everyone willing to jump in with me.
It took me a long time to find that ticket.
To find that courage.
To dance.
I am hopeful that my dance, my journey and my story, will help you to let yours out.
Maybe not with words, but somehow in some way, sooner than you knew you could and I hope that I can be there to witness it, and to give you a hug when that release finally comes.
You don't have to be a trained dancer to dance, you just need to be willing to let your story out.
Steph
To read more about what the Just Flow Fun studio could offer CT residents, click HERE
RSS Feed
