Breakup with Fear: Aerials & the Childless Journey . . .

If you are a regular here at Not So Mommy…, you already know that I talk a lot about the childless journey.  You also know that I love aerial dance.  Today, I want to talk about both…

I started taking aerial lessons when Bruna lived with us.  After she went home, I continued taking classes.  It has become my thing.  Last year, I performed in my first ever aerial showcase.  Truly, it was the highlight of my adult life, as I overcame anxiety and nerves to perform a solo piece in front of an audience.  Recently, (on 5 October 2019), I performed again.  It was another solo aerial piece, but this time, I chose the music and choreographed it myself (with some help from my coach).  I also dedicated it to my best friend, who passed away from breast cancer.

My performance at the showcase was absolutely phenomenal!  As I stepped out of the sling, I was all smiles, feeling extremely proud of my accomplishment!  After the show, my friend (who had come to watch me perform) and another coach both told me they had tears in their eyes when I finished because my piece was so emotional!  How incredible to have moved people so deeply!  The compliments made my heart happy.  And they made the months of hard work so worth it…

You know, I often think about how my aerial journey resembles the childless journey.  Occasionally, those in the midst of their battle ask how I made it through.  They wonder how I can be childless and happy, embracing infertility, finding the bright sides of this imperfectly perfect life…  Well, it wasn’t always this way.  Just like my solo aerial piece wasn’t always so beautiful and sassy…

Let’s start at the beginning…

In February (eight months ago), my aerial coach, Allison of Skyward Aerial Arts, told me that she’d like for me to perform another solo at our next showcase.  But this time, she wanted me to choreograph my own piece.  Excited and nervous about this challenge, I messaged her the song that I was considering using—The Breakup Song by Francesca Battistelli.  The powerful lyrics of this song helped me as I worried through my best friend battling cancer and then, began to grieve when God decided to heal her in Heaven.  I knew I wanted to dedicate my performance to Jennifer.

One month in…

On 7 March, I took my first video of part of my aerial piece.  It was only part of it because I didn’t yet have the stamina to stay in the air for the full 3 minutes and 24 seconds, which is how long “The Breakup Song” is.  As I type, there are 20 video recordings of me practicing my piece stored on my laptop.  Now, that doesn’t count the numerous videos I deleted.  Plus, I didn’t record every practice run.  An educated guess, I know I practiced my piece at least 65 times and probably over 100 times.  As I think back over the months of practice, there were lots of ups and downs…

Six months in…

At the beginning of August, I was starting to panic.  There were only eight weeks left until the showcase, and I was not feeling confident at all.  My piece was not progressing how I wanted, I could not get the timing down, it wasn’t flowing like I had pictured in my head…  It felt all wrong!  And I was frustrated, annoyed, ready to chuck it all and start over.  Had I chosen the wrong song?  Had I put in too many hard moves?  Was I strong enough to get through the choreography?  Was I good enough to make this look beautiful and graceful instead of choppy and difficult?  It was lacking something…  I just couldn’t figure out what…

Seeking advice…

So, I talked to my coach—my wonderful, encouraging, supportive, loving, amazing coach.  She told me I could take a private lesson if that’s what I needed.  She promised me that my piece was coming along nicely, that I was strong enough, that it was good enough.  During a random conversation with her and some other students, she commented about how different her performance style is from another coach in our studio.  She commented that while she has a dance background, the other coach has a gymnastics background.  And it clicked!  I was trying to perform my piece like the last one I did—graceful and flowing, like a beautiful dance.  But my current piece…  It needed a “gymnastics feel.”  It needed more sass, more punch.

Changing perspective…

So, I modified how I was practicing.  My moves were crisp, exact.  What I once felt was jerky and didn’t flow became strong and sassy!  I still struggled to make it through my piece, exhausted by the final three moves.  But it was progressing.  I decided it didn’t need to be perfect.  I just needed to have fun!  And it was working!

By the Sunday before the showcase, I was pleased with my piece.  I made a couple of minor tweaks, was able to complete all the moves without getting exhausted, and truly felt I was ready to perform.

An unexpected wobble…

On Friday, rehearsal day arrived.  Nervous, tired, anxious, worried…  They all showed up.  My confidence had left.  I missed a move during my practice run.  I cried.  In fact, I couldn’t stop crying.  Tears flowed, as I worried that my performance was going to be a complete disaster.  I was dedicating this piece to Jennifer, and it was going to suck.

My beautiful teacher saw my struggle.  She hugged me.  She told me she was proud of me.  She told me I could do this.  She cheered me on as I ran my piece again.  She gave me the confidence that I didn’t have at that moment…

I went home–tired, sore, both wrists bothering me, a tweaked muscle in my leg, a bloated endo belly, feeling frumpy and every bit of 42 years old.  I took Ibuprofen.  After a hot shower, I lathered my legs and arms in muscle ease essential oils.  I prayed that my piece would go well the next day.  I prayed that my muscle cramps would heal overnight.  I prayed that my nerves would calm.  And I slept.

The Big Day…

The next day, I woke feeling a bit better.  I took it easy, talked positively to myself, and spent extra time getting ready.  Purple sparkles on my eyes, a couple of curls around my face…  I felt pretty.  I headed to the studio early.  Not because I was going to run my piece again.  I knew I only had one run-through left in me, and I had to save that for the showcase.  But I wanted to stretch and stretch some more.  I wanted to get in the sling and feel the silks.  I wanted to be around others who knew what it felt like to perform.

Jitters…

My hubby showed up.  A friend of mine, along with her husband and mom showed up.  As I talked to them, I began to get nervous again, knowing the show would be starting soon.  While the rest of those performing had gathered together next to the performance area, I hung back, feeling more comfortable with my husband and friend.

As the show started, I snuck over to a back room, checking my lipstick and stretching some more.  My classmates were performing, and I could hear the cheers for them.  “I should be watching them,” I thought.  But I had a plan in my mind about what I needed to do in order to mentally prepare for my performance.  So, I took a breath and focused on myself.  Though I felt a bit guilty, there were tons of people out there to support them—friends and family in the audience, fellow aerialists, our coaches…  I had to let them be the support.  At that moment, I just couldn’t.

After running to the restroom (again), I made my way out to where my fellow aerialists sat.  Only one more piece and it would be my turn to perform.  I put rosin on my hands.  I put more rosin on my hands.  Seriously, it’s like my security.  I just can’t get enough rosin.  It makes me feel more confident.  Like I won’t slip out of the sling.  So, I rosin and rosin and rosin…  Until I can’t anymore.  Because it’s time to perform.

Showtime…

As I walked to the sling, my heart began to pound.  I got set up in my starting position.  I took a deep breath.  I smiled as I listened to my coach introduce me.  I took another deep breath.  The music started.  I did my pull-over, first move, second move, third move, fourth move, fifth move…

And I was in a standing side lean on “Fear, you don’t own me!”  And the audience cheered and clapped, and the nerves were leaving…  I was starting to have fun.  Mermaid sequence, bomb drop, and then, the move that I missed last night.  Deep breath.  Another deep breath.  Don’t rush.  Set up properly.  You got this.  And the audience cheered again!  I’m getting tired.  The final moves are coming.  My arms are getting weaker.  “STRONG,” I say to myself.  I’m standing in the sling.  Get ready for sleeping beauty.  There’s a slight wobble.  Cheers!  I got this!  Final four beats, sitting pretty, sling that left arm down.  DONE!  Cheers, claps, smiles!  I get out of the sling, heart pounding, breathing heavily, see my friend’s smile in the audience, bow, and walk off, smiling as I go…

The After…

I did it!  That’s the performance I wanted to dedicate to Jennifer!  That’s the perfect piece I was striving for!  Oh, I’m soooo happy!

I spent the rest of the showcase sitting among my fellow aerialists, cheering and clapping and supporting them as they performed.  I smiled as we took our group photo.  Dane and I even went out afterwards with a few them.  (There was an awkward moment as I acclimated to this group setting.  I don’t do small talk.  And even though I know these ladies, it still takes me a minute to feel comfortable.)  And then, I went home.  I took a long, hot shower.  I lathered my sore muscles in essential oils.  And I slept.

What aerials teaches about the childless journey . . .

Now, what does all this have to do with the childless journey?  Well, here’s what aerials has taught me…

#1: The childless journey is a marathon, not a sprint.

I practiced this specific piece for eight months before performing.  I’ve taken classes for years.  While the audience sees an amazing show, they don’t truly understand all the hard work it took to get there.

When fellow childless ask me how I do it…   How I can be childless and happy, embracing infertility, finding the bright sides of this imperfectly perfect life…  Well, it wasn’t always this way.  I struggled through infertility for ten years.  Currently, I’m in year 6 of accepting a childless not by choice life.  Others say they see something amazing in me (which is humbling and often, surprising), but they don’t always understand all the hard work it took me to get here.

#2: Even when you’ve accepted the childless journey, there will be moments of doubt.

After six months of choreographing, developing, tweaking, practicing, I thought my piece was total crap.  I thought I’d made a mistake.  I picked the wrong song.  I picked the wrong moves.  I thought I could handle more than I really could.  It was all wrong!

But it wasn’t.  It needed a few more tweaks.  I needed to practice a bit more.  I had to push myself…  Well, I had to accept guidance from my coach who was pushing me…  I had to change my perspective about what my piece should look like.

It wasn’t crap.  It just wasn’t going to look exactly like I had imagined in my head.

And isn’t that just like the childless journey?!  Oh, the tweaking, the accepting advice and help and guidance and support and encouragement and love from those who truly get it.  The pushing ourselves, the changing perspective.  Our journey really isn’t crap.  The childless journey just isn’t going to look exactly like what we had imagined in our heads…

#3: Even when you’ve accepted the childless journey, there will be wobbles.

Finally, I thought my piece was ready.  I was happy with it.  I was confident in my abilities.  I was ready.

And then, rehearsal did NOT go well.  And I wobbled—BIG.  But my coach saw that I was struggling, she asked me if I was okay, and I trusted her enough to cry and tell her, “No, I’m not okay.”  She shared her strength with me when I didn’t have strength of my own.  She helped me believe that I could do this, that everything truly would be okay…

There will come a time on your journey when you believe that you are okay.  Life will look beautiful again, joy will fill your heart, smiles and love and happiness will abound.

And then, a wobble will hit.  A grief attack will occur.  Something will knock you off balance—BIG.  When that happens, find someone you trust and tell her that you are NOT okay.  Gain strength from this warrior when you don’t have strength of your own.  And believe her when she tells you that you CAN do this, that everything truly WILL be okay…

#4: Practice Self-Love AND Self-Care while on the Childless Journey . . .

The day of my performance, I made a conscious effort to speak positively to myself.  While my hubby worked on our remodel, I took some extra time to get ready, making myself feel pretty.  And at the beginning of the showcase, I allowed myself to focus on my needs, leaving it to others to offer support to my fellow aerialists.

And when that voice snuck in, telling me that I was being selfish and lazy and that I should have been out there to cheer on my teammates, I told it to be quiet.  I was not selfish nor lazy to take it easy before my performance.  I had to rest my muscles.  I had to feel confident in the way I looked.  Dane knew that.  He was okay that I couldn’t help move the hardwood floors.

And at the beginning of the showcase, I had to focus on my needs in order to calm my anxiety.  Otherwise, I am afraid my nerves would have overtaken me, causing me to have a less than stellar show.

So, when you hear that voice telling you negative things, tell it to be quiet!  You are awesome.  You are strong.  You are brave.  You are fabulous!  It is okay to focus on your needs.  It is okay to allow others to offer support when you need a moment to calm the anxiety, to calm the nerves…

#5: Do what you need to do.

You know, I went to the bathroom three times in the span of four hours and put more rosin on my hands than was necessary.  But doing those things made me feel calmer.  So, I decided not to worry what others thought and just do what I needed to do.

Maybe you need to skip the shower, the party, the family gathering.  Maybe you need to excuse yourself to cry in the bathroom for a moment.  Or perhaps you spend more time talking to the dog than to the human guests.  Don’t worry about what others think.  Just do what you need to do.

#6: Enjoy the spotlight.

When the time came for all eyes to be on me, I took a breath and told myself to enjoy this moment.  I took in the cheers, I cherished the smiles, and I said THANK YOU to each and every person who told me how wonderfully I performed.  I am trying, oh so hard, NOT to nit-pick my piece.  There are a few less-than-perfect spots.  But why focus on minor, little glitches when, over-all, it was phenomenal?!

So, when the time comes for all eyes to be on you, enjoy it.  Accept the praise, the smiles, the compliments.  Do not focus on the minor imperfections, but rather the glorious beauty of the big picture…

#7: Join the crowd.

After I performed, I decided to stay with my fellow aerialists rather than joining my hubby and friend in the audience.  I really want to be a part of this group.  But how can that happen if I always separate myself from them?  And when one of my classmates asked if I’d like to join them for drinks afterwards…  Well, Dane and I went.  And minus feeling a bit awkward at the beginning, it was fun!  But I had to get out of my comfort zone…

While you must practice self-care and self-love…  While you must do what you need to do…  You must also (when you are feeling strong enough), get out of your comfort zone and join the crowd.  Making friends isn’t always easy.  But how can we make friends if we never allow ourselves to be around others?  We have to give them a chance.  We have to give ourselves a chance…

Want to watch my solo performance?!  Well, here it is…

Video By MoxinBox Creative

One Last Thing…

This is one of my absolute favorite photos captured by Second Star Creative.  I adore this moment.  “Fear, you don’t own me!  There ain’t no room in this story,” was being sung by Francesca Battistelli.  I love the position of my hand, as if I am stopping fear from entering.  The only thing I was unsure of…  The expression on my face.  Despite that, I made this photo my profile pic on Facebook.  And one of my friends said, “I love the expression on your face in this one.  So strong and fierce and beautiful.”  And she changed my perspective…

What you don’t know is that this photo was taken during rehearsal–the day I cried, A LOT.  In fact, this was taken during my second run, after many tears had been shed.  But in this moment, I was strong.  I had gathered strength from my coach, the photographer (a fellow classmate), the words of the song, and myself.  In this moment, I was breaking up with fear.

I love that the photos were taken on a rough day.  Because it reminds me that there are beautiful moments even amidst pain, beautiful moments amidst wobbles…

*I included “The Breakup Song” in “Our Childless Life Soundtrack,” a blog about music for the wounded spirit.  You can read that blog & find links to all the songs here.

I want to say thank you…

I want to say a HUGE “Thank You!” to…

• Our exchange daughter, Bruna, who introduced me to aerials.
• Kelly, of MAYA Movement Arts, my first coach and the woman who encouraged me to perform in my first showcase.
• Allison, of Skyward Aerial Arts, my current coach who has offered much support and encouragement over the past months.
• Kadie, of Second Star Creative, a fellow aerialist and classmate who took all the amazing still shots of my performance.
• Alex, of MoxinBox Creative, who shot the incredible video of my showcase performance.

I am beyond blessed to have these incredible, strong, loving, beautiful women in my life!

If anything I wrote resonates, fabulous one, please tell us about it in the comments.

The childless journey can be lonely.  Please, contact me if you ever need a listening ear.

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Photos By Second Star Creative