Suffering at the barre: a little about me

The confident dancer on stage. The girl who does and wears what she wants. She doesn’t care what other people think. Yup, that’s me. Or not. At least on the outside, that’s me. On the inside, every “damn, girl” and “what’s up with your outfit/ hair/ boyfriend, etc.” hurt me a lot. To make matters worse, I have eczema (if you don’t know what that is, it’s this non-contagious skin disease where my skin breaks out in ugly-looking rashes on my arms, legs, neck, and sometimes face and ears) which makes me very self-concious, especially when flaunted for all to see when I’m wearing shorts or a ponytail. At school, I struggle to find a partner when the class pairs up. Even my best friend teases me about my dress and ex-boyfriend, who wasn’t very popular and despite my better judgement, I said yes to and we “went out” until he moved away and I lost all connections with him. My best friend teasing me hurts the most. I thought about suicide, until I started taking dance 4 times a week. I found that dance is my outlet, where I can just let go of my pathetic life and let the music and steps inspire me. That’s not to say my life is better now, though it has improved. It used to be a long, dark tunnel, now there is a light at the end.