My first real dream was to be a ballerina.  I started lessons when I was 4 but by the time I turned 6, my feet were starting to hurt me enough to the point of tears.  Maybe it was growing pains (I think it was because I tried to go on pointe on my own for fun way too much), but I was pulled out just in case.  And I've never forgotten since.

In the intro ballet class in college, I felt the movements coming back to me so naturally because they had been ingrained in my bones as muscle memory.  But I couldn't build up to what my body was longing to do, to throw itself into a beautiful, almost violent dance without thought.  It was the only realm where I could throw out all inhibition.

Even now, I can't help but stand in first position, stretch like I'm at the barre, and tip toe out of boredom.  There's no way I can let it out because it was never finished.  It's as if something's missing that only my bones can truly feel.