Puking on Your Tutu (Or What Keeps You From Making Your Mark)

(This is one of my favorite guest posts, written for {grow}.)

I puked on my tutu just before I was supposed to dance with the fairies in my first recital.

My mom took me, and my tutu, home in disgrace. This was my first episode with humiliation. I can still remember the feeling of all those eyes as a path was cleared for me and my thoroughly soiled, very fragrant, tutu.

Thus ended my dance lessons and any hope of becoming another Shirley Temple. I didn’t know at the time that I had  processed a life lesson.

I was five.

I got older without too much awareness that I was holding back.

To finish reading this post, click here.

Perilously yours,

Pauline

 

Pauline Baird Jones

www.paulinebjones.com

Perilously romantic fiction for armchair adventurers

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