I’ve loved dancing for as long as I can remember. When I was a kid, my mother enrolled me in ballet. I LOVED it.  My aunt picked me up from class one day, and started laughing when I showed her what we learned.  The six year old me didn’t understand the laughter, as the instructor and other kids hadn’t laughed.  She continued laughing, long after I had stopped dancing. I never went back to class. Years later, I confronted her, since I wanted to know why someone would do such a thing. As with most bullies, confronting them is never really satisfying. Her reply? “I couldn’t help it, seeing your fat little ass in that tutu, it was hysterical!” Actually no, it was hurtful, not hysterical.  While I was unable to go to another dance class without feeling self-conscious, I continued to dance on my own. I would create elaborate routines to Janet Jackson, try to emulate the moves in Hungry Like the Wolf.  In my room, I was unstoppable.


I was thrilled at the prospect of Zumba since I love all types of dance. We had a small stage at one of the classes I went to, where the instructor would bring up people to show the class. He began to routinely bring me to the front and say “watch her”. While it’s not like winning the Mirror Ball trophy, it certainly feels great to be acknowledged, especially doing something that makes you feel awesome. It never fails, whenever I am doing a class, I’m constantly smiling. It’s not just a workout out for me, it’s like therapy. When I leave the class, my body is tired and feel a sense of elation. It’s simply fantastic!