I am a plus size dancer.

My hips are large and my moves may be bigger than yours but damnit, I can dance.

I can twirl, and shake, and move across a stage like it’s my air.

I breathe in the rhythm and let my body sway to the beat,

Like spirits are swirling in the air, guiding ‘round because, I am a plus size dancer.

My body is no hourglass, nor a ballerina, but that does not diminish my dance.

I am a rhythmic machine, gracing the floor each count of four;

One, two, three, four; one, two, three, four.

Hear my tap shoes hit the stage, and you better believe they sound more pronounced than yours.

That is not because of my weight, but rather my passion.

I am a plus size dancer.

My leotard can encompass two of that body type,

But you better believe these hips don’t lie.

My body rolls can body roll, And my shoulders can shimmy center stage.

Dance teachers put me in the back line to ‘balance out the dance.’

You can imagine how quickly I step-ball-changed my way right to the front line.

I am a plus size dancer.

The barre feels natural to my palms; floor to my feet; kicks to my legs.

My dreams are in a relevé, soaring past standards, Because this is what I love.

Release your ideas of what a dancer looks like, Sounds like, or moves like.

Music in the soul, and movement in the body, that is what makes a dancer;

Nothing more. Nothing less.

Because I am a dancer.