Being Imperfect

Chapter-3

Hurt. Betrayal. Insult. Doubt. I felt my knees give out as all these feelings rush their course through my body. I sat on the floor bringing my knees to my chest, curled up in a ball. As if doing so will somehow protect me from the whirlpool of emotions that was engulfing me. How could I have been so naive? How could I have been so naive that I didn't see this coming? How could I have ever thought that maybe he believed in me?

"Jordan, where did you go?" I hear Josh's voice from the phone left in my bed.

I wipe my eyes trying to make every trace of the tears go away. Picking up the phone, I put on a fake smile only to see his green eyes filled with concern.

"Just went to get headphones." I awkwardly chuckle showing him the headphones in my hand.

"I heard you crying," he whispers as if saying that will break me even more.

I close my eyes taking a deep breath to not feel the embarrassment. But it didn't work. I felt the tears creep their way into my eyes once again, making me gasp for air in small sobs.

"Hey, talk to me, what happened?"

"They don't think I have what it takes to be a dancer.", my voice came out strangled.

Pathetic. That's what I was.

A gut-wrenching silence took over the room as Josh ran his hand through his brown hair and just kept staring at something in front of him.

Why did I even tell him that? I should have just told him that I fell or something. At least that way, I wouldn't have to feel this small in his eyes.

"Move to Paris." he finally speaks up killing the never-ending silence.

"What?", what the f**k is he saying?

"Look, Jordan. I'm sorry to say this. But your parents are toxic as f**k. And you need to get away from them asap."

"If you stay in the same city as them, they are going to find some way or another to manipulate you to do what you want."

I look down at my toes curling up as I start to feel self-conscious. I know that what Josh is saying is the truth but that doesn't change the fact that he is still talking about my parents. No matter what, they are always going to be my parents.

"Jordan, hey. I want you to apply to a dance school here."

"You can't seriously think that I'll be able to make it to a dance academy in Paris." I scoff at his unrealistic suggestion.

"I haven't even gone to any dancing classes for the last 9 years. You are stupid if you think I can make it there."

"Have you seen yourself dancing, Jordan? It doesn't matter that you didn't take any stupid dancing classes. You dance better than anyone I have ever seen and I f*****g mean it."

Could I make it? Could I get into a dance academy in Paris?

"Just apply to the schools here. If you don't get in, you could always try in America.", he drops his voice an octave in an effort to convince me.

Fuck. Am I considering this? I guess I am.

"Okay, I'm going to try."

Josh's face breaks into the biggest grin I have ever seen on his face, bringing a soft smile to my face as well.

"Well, then go and shoot a video to send in your application."

"I'll talk to you later then.", I wave him goodbye and disconnect the call.

Plopping down on my soft cushions, I look up at the ceiling of my room, letting the crisp white color clear my mind like a blank canvas and color it with everything that happened today.

Maybe moving to Paris would be the best option for me. But will I be able to get in? I mean the dance academies in Paris are top-level and I'm---well, I'm me. And even if I got in by any miracle, would I be able to live alone by myself in a new country? Am I even ready for something like that?

All of a sudden everything my parents said to me screamed its way into my mind like a roaring monster. I felt a small fire build inside me and it kept getting stronger as I let my mind rewind all their demeaning and insulting actions. It burned through my entire chest and made its way through my entire body engulfing me. And then--

It disappeared. An eerie coldness took its place which should have made me shudder instead it made me calm, still like an untouched body of water.

I'm done with it. I'm done letting them step over me. I'm done letting them make me feel like I can never do anything right. I'm done letting them make me feel as if I don't know myself.

I'm done.

The next few weeks pass in a blur as I spend all of my time choreographing a performance to send in my application. I spent countless hours in the basement choreographing and dancing. I worked harder than I had ever before. I gave it my blood and sweat both literally and figuratively. I gave it my all. Every single thing in me.

Changing into a brown leotard with spandex shorts and a tank top, I walk over to the basement and set up the camera and the speakers.

After I fix the camera, I move my head upwards to see all the mirrors I had fixed in the walls before. I expect to see myself quivering with fear and trepidation but the person standing in front of me seems unaffected, confident, certain like she knows what she is doing.

I take my position in the center of the room and get into my starting posture. The music hits my ears, soul, and body within a few seconds. I feel the music in every inch of me guiding my body through the room. I let myself feel everything I hid deep inside me. The pain, the failure, the doubts, the insecurities but also the fight, the determination, the courage, and the sanguinity. I let myself show all my flaws in the most flawless possible way. Don't know how but somehow it makes sense at this moment. And before I could know it, the song ends, bringing me out of my trance-like state.

Exhaling a loud breath, I drag a tool to sit down and watch the video. It seems to me that I caught every beat and my moves were on point. It looks...Perfect. I attach the video to my application which I plan to send later today. I also forward the video to Josh so that he can let me know what he thinks of it.

I change into my hoodie and sweats feeling truly happy for the first time.

Feeling confident in a long time.