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I do not write about my childhood very often. Most of it was not pretty and I rather take it in small parts in therapy.

One aspect of my childhood that I have not dissociated is dancing. I started dancing because of a physical deformity. It was the one type of activity that I did not run out of. 

My first dance class was amazing. For the first time in my life, I looked like everyone else in my leotard, tights, and ballet shoes. Even my ballet bag looked like theirs. I was not stared at or laughed at for the first time. The best part was that mom had to stay out in the lobby.

Dance became an escape. The one to three hours a week that no one could hurt me or tell me what they were thinking about me. The studio became my safe haven. I loved the smell, the pictures on the walls, the music, and the feeling of being part of a group. 

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