Dancing: A Way of Life? Maybe Not

Dancing was to be a way of life for me or so I thought. My dreams of becoming a ballerina came crashig down after I had manipulated my parents into paying for both piano and ballat lessons, my Dad learned about my deception, and he gave me a decision to make.

Early in my teens I learned the art of playing my parents against each other. It was a simple matter of asking Dad if I could go somewhere or do something. I was always sure to add that it was all right with Mom if it was all right with him. He usually went along with whatever it was I wanted to do if he thought Mom had approved of it. The reverse worked with Mom as well. At one point I had manipulated Mom in paying for piano lessons and Dad into paying for dance lessons.

Weekly plias at the exercie bar and etudes at the piano went smoothly for a month or so. It was when Mom and Dad compared notes that things went awry. Dad gave me an ultimatur: ballet or piano lessons, but not both.

This decision was a difficult one for me because I excelled in both art forms. I stewed for a week or more as I wavered from dance to piano and back again. In the end I opted for piano lessons, but grieved over giving up arabesques in toe shoes and tutus.

Though I was unable to continue ballet, I learned an even greater lesson. Manipulation doesn't always work for the best. In my case, I was faced with an ultimatum and the ensuring decision was not an easy one to make.