Ashton

In the last four years of my life, I've been told "No", and "You can't do that" and "Give it up".

I've had to sit and watch my friends do what I was meant to do.

And that was hard. It was awful and defintiely the hardest thing I've ever had to go through.

Every doctor said "You need a major surgery", or "I think it's time to quit", and "You really can't fix this".

But I wasn't about to listen to them. Not for a second.

D A N C E .

It's what my life has been about since I started walking. And here's my story:

I was 13 year old and dancing in class just like normal when I got a shooting pain through the arch of my foot. I fell to the floor in discomfort. I had no idea what was wrong, nor did I know that the pain I was feeling would be with me forever.

I went to the doctor a few days later and returned home with terrible news: Plantar Faciitis. Plantar fasciitis is inflammation of the thick tissue on the bottom of the foot. And I had it BAD. So off to the chiropractor and the phycial therapist and the doctor I went. A lot. I went to many different doctors with different outlooks on the situation, but they all told me the same thing: No. No you can't dance again. No you can't pick up your pointe shoes again. No, no no. Everywhere I went, every doctor who saw me plainly told me that dancing again wasn't possible. Despite their negative outlook, I tried therapy to help. That helped for a while, but little did I know that the problem wasn't what I had thought.

One visit to a radiologist and my hopes were crushed for good. The doctor came back with a confused look on his face. He told me I was born with two extra bones in each of my feet and that my whole life, one filled with rigorous dancing and exertion, had messed up my joints and my feet so bad, it had given me Plantar Faciitis, the original reason I sought medical help. And the worst part was that it had quickly spread to my ankles and made them weak. It had messed up my knees so I cannot fully stretch my legs, and my hips are weak and always getting out of alignment. One small fixable problem had turned into a medical mystery that I couldn't ever be rid of. 

I spent nights in my bed crying because despite my optimistic outlook on the situation, I as a wreck. My dancing career was in ruins, and I knew it. There's a lot of people out there who don't get ballet. They think its frilly and dumb and not exercise at all and just something they did when they were 4 and never did again. They don't get that feeling when music is put on and your spirit soars as your feet dance across the floor. They don't know that ballet is hard work. Like, really hard. It works every muscle in body. Your core, your legs, your feet, your arms, everything.

To me, dance is more than watching Barbie and the 12 dancing princesses. It's more than jumping around in a tutu. It's more than pink shoes and pink tights. It's more than satin and bows and sequins and corsets. For me, it was everything. It was my passion, my escape, my love, my life. It was the feeling of being on stage in front of hundreds of people and performing what I'd been practicing for months. It was my joy and my happiness. I made friends through dance that I'll have forever. No other sport I've tried quite stacked up to ballet. In fact, nothing really ever will. 

After over 11 years of my life had been dedicated to dance, I had to quit. I had to hang up my ballet shoes. I had to throw out my tights. I had to put my skirts into storage. Writing out an email to my instructor telling her I wouldn't be signing up for the Spring term and that I couldn't take my Grade 8 exam and that I had to let go of the one thing I was always so sure about was the worst news I had and ever will have to deliever.

So where am I today? I'm dancing. Despite the negativity from the doctors I visited, I was not about to give up my favorite thing to do for good. I dance Zumba three times a week. I dance in shoes with great ankle support. I exercise my hips so they don't get out of alignment. I wear high arched shoes to support my feet. 

I found a way to get through my personal hell, and I live to tell the tale.

I volunteer for every performance I can at my old studio. I teach beginning ballet to 3 year olds. I help sew and mend costumes for my former teachers. I help quick chnage girls and assist the girls who are new to dancing, because I know everything first hand.

If there's one thing I want people to know through reading this, it's this: Don't take no for an answer. Don't ever let somebody tell you that you can't do something because of the way you were made. Break rules. Prove people wrong. And most importantly: Have patience and never, ever, EVER give up.

I didn't.