The tutu

When I was 6 years old, I started taking classes in classical ballet in my then Swedish hometown Lidköping. My first recital was in two acts, first dressed like a green troll to this song and then in fully white with a tutu, that my mother had sawn for me.

I practiced doing cartwheels and stand on my hands on the green grass together with my classmate Fredrika. During the summer, I finally was able to do the split when we weren’t busy practicing a secret language for our missions taught by Astrid Lindgren playing the battle of  “Red and White roses.

My first encounter with classical ballet was at the age of 5 when my mother took me to see “Swanlake” being performed. I felt directly how the story resonated with me and I still can become moved when I watch it.

The next year, we had to move, but luckily the town of Lund, also had classical ballet. And now I got to lead the group onto stage, always placed first. After that recital, where I had seen the older students using pointed shoes, I went up to my teacher Birgit Wettergren, a hefty Danish woman with her own pianist, and asked when I could start learning to dance with pointed shoes. She said I could the following semester and then come to audition for her at the Copenhagen Royal Ballet, where she taught daytime. I was now able to do pirouettes across the whole floor and I have never been happier.

But the next year, we had to move again. And I had to stop dancing ballet…

More about this and what happened next, can be found in my book “The Call for Divine Mothering ~ applying the keys to paradise”.