So I had a kind of mini performance tonight. We had dress rehearsal at 5 and then opened at 8. I wear tights under all of my costumes... a) we have to wear a tan leotard under all our costumes and when that shit goes up your ass it's kind of hard to ignore b) no one sees my legs. ever. I don't even look at my legs.
Let's think about this. My legs are huge, flabby, and disgusting. They just don't look good. Not everyone has nice legs. No one wants to see that shit. Then just the fact that if my legs were to be exposed, I would physically feel uncomfortable and it would affect my dancing. It's hard enough dealing with the fact my arm flab is all over the fuckin place, it's just too much. And what else? Oh! How about the fact that there are scars covering my legs! Hip to knee. Old slashes going every which way... long white lines, short white lines... there for all to see.
I haven't had one of these tights situations since before the leg so that's just a whole other level that's been tacked on to everything. So anyway, after dress rehearsal we all talked a little and the dance instructor who was in charge of everything for this show calls me over. And she basically just wanted to tell me that it looks awkward that I'm the only one with tights on and I flat out told her I feel uncomfortable without them, I won't go on stage without them, whatever. And she was fine with it she just wanted it to be known she talked to me about the tights if the director said anything but she left the choice up to me so of course I wore them... but I started to cry, like really cry.
And she's so sweet and she just got like really worried like... she did not expect that reaction at all from me, she didn't think tights could make me so emotional, yada yada. She was like I'm so sorry, I didn't know this was going to make you feel this way. And she wanted to know why I am so "attached" I guess, to my tights. So I told her, I don't look good without them, I feel uncomfortable. I was like, ask anyone in the costume shop I'm always the one causing problems and I always find a way to wear tights anyway.
So she like tried to talk to me and tell me no one would be looking at my legs they would be looking at my dancing and the that I'm beautiful blah blah blah. She like couldn't even find the words though because she knows me, but not really well... and she was like I don't know why this is such a thing for you or whatever I just hope it's not... and she couldn't find the words. She was like actually kind of scared about the fact that I got so worked up over something so trivial and that I got so upset about it.
It's like seriously ridiculous how crazy I am. I hate it. I hate being crazy. I hate everything about this. I hate my life. Ughh... this needs to stop.