username: ThatPinkThing
name: Maya Olivers
gender: female
"Just because your fur is pink, that doesn't mean you're pretty."That's what my classmate said to me on the day of my last ballet lesson. I had looked to the others, but none of them met my eyes or defended me. My ears fell flat in despair.
"Is that really what you think of me?" my voice cracked as I questioned every dancer before me.
One or two nodded, and one kalon said,
"Your shine is scary, I always forget you're one of us." One of 'us'? Sure, my coat pattern was simpler than theirs, and I had no horns or glow or long, braided hair, but...
My tail swished and my eyes welled with tears. I thought they liked dancing with me. I thought I was part of a team.
"If you always forget, go ahead and stop trying to remember," I said harshly, trying to hurt them the way they hurt me. I turned and scooped up my bag, heading for the door.
"I quit."That night I tore my tutu and threw my ballet slippers in the trash. A couple hours later I fished them out and cleaned them up, but I still couldn't look at them. Instead of one in a uniform line, now they were all by themselves... I was all by myself...
Over time, I adapted to being alone. It was nice after a while; I could wear whatever I wanted, I didn't have to wear the tight pink leotards that made dancers look the same. I could act silly and bold and dangerous-- I could do things ballerinas aren't supposed to do. I wore more casual dance clothes and I still danced in my room and after school, but I didn't want to dance with other now. I didn't want to feel left out anymore, so I made it on my own.
And then I saw the most beautiful lone dancer running across a rooftop, as free as a bird. The kalon jumped over hurdles, spinning and flipping and twirling whenever they had a long enough stretch of rooftop. I followed from the ground, entranced by their performance. Finally, the kalon descended by hopping between fire escapes, landing in a tumble and standing with their shoulders squared. They stood tall and proud, even though they were alone. Even though they were tough and confident, I noticed a sparkling set of earrings and glittery makeup. They were... pretty. The stranger met my eyes, gave me a smirk and a salute, and headed off down the street.
I've got to do that.
A few years down the road, I danced in front of others again. It wasn't the way I expected-- I wasn't centerstage with lights and hundreds of eyes watching me. Instead, I danced on fountain edges, imitating the dramatic sculptures who accompanied me. I danced on rooftops, and ran between stages, leaping and tumbling above all the world.
The best part was I didn't have to
change. I didn't have to leave behind my tutu, and I didn't have to wear the studs that I thought my shine inspired. I wore what let me move, but I did sew what was left of my bouncy, pink tutu onto my athletic pants. I wore a ripped shirt to freerun, but it was decorated with glittery decals. More than once, kalons asked me where I got my outfits; I always had to shrug and say I did whatever I wanted to the stuff I thrifted. Wearing what you want is step one of confidence, according to my experience.
I was tough, yeah, and I was pretty.the next bit is Maya's profile on a mock dance site!
