Dancing is my medicine.
As a little baby, I giggled while moving my feet to the beat of the music before I could walk. As a little girl, I pirouetted across the floor and lit up the stage. As an energetic and rebellious teenager, I swirled on the football field. As a college student, I picked apples out of the sky and pranced with friends as we created our version of the giving tree to educate students about our environment. As a young and wanderlust adult, I flowed to the waves of the beat surrounded by my ATL tribe. As I fell in love with myself in the mystical mountains of Peru, I moved slowly with familia under the trees next to the malecon. As I fell in love with my future hubby, I tangoed in Buenos Aires late into the morning without a care in the world. As I grew Marito inside my belly, I bobbed to the beat awkwardly in San Fran. And as a mother, I am blossoming, and slowing down to the rhythm; saying yes to an all-natural life. Dancing is my medicine. Dancing is my drug. Dancing is what gives m...