I was staying at my fiance's apartment that evening (Travis and I go back and forth between staying in an apartment he rents from his parents, and the guest room in my family's home). I limped through the door in my usual fashion, carrying at least eighty bags, since I essentially live out of my car. I dumped them on the floor, gave Trav a hug, and started pulling pins out of my hair that was still damp with sweat. I ate a leftover fajita bowl for dinner before hopping in the shower. The hot water stung my open blisters on my two big toes, pinky toes, and right heel. Even the sheets touching the tender skin as I slid into bed made me wince.
Just as Trav and I turned on the food network, set the sleep timer, and were ready to turn in, I got a text from my sister. She was congratulating me on some kind of video. I had no idea what she meant, so I hopped onto Facebook and saw this:
"Principal dancer." The words rung in my ears a few times before I digested the weight of them. It sounds a little silly, but that was a monumental moment for me. Laying there in bed next to the man I love, my feet stinging against the touch of sheets, completely exhausted, but feeling like I had finally made it. Those are the words I had been working to hear from my director for over a decade. On that rather un-extraordinary Tuesday, I realized that when all is said and done, I'm doing pretty great.
thanks for the photos, Alicia! <3
