What I experienced wasn’t self-doubt. It was grief. Not grief for who I was. Grief for a dance identity I’d built over many years. My neurosurgeon helped me understand that my body needed a different way of moving and accepting that took time. I wasn’t losing myself. I was learning to let go of the version of me I’d always known. Then something beautiful happened. I stopped trying to become the old me again. I started discovering a new way to dance. My injury didn’t take away my love for dance. It changed the way I dance. It brought me back to music. Back to singing. Back to sharing my story. And gave me a deeper respect for my body. Today, I’m turning limitations into freedom. I didn’t lose myself. I evolved 🩵
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