The first ten minutes - pain. Feet are looking for support, the body - for balance.
And then - the magic begins.
I am standing in the studio in front of the mirror, the light is soft, the music is spreading across the floor. And suddenly I am not dancing - I am telling a story.

Every movement in the style of hills is like a line of a letter to myself.
“You can be sharp - and it is beautiful. You can be slow - and it excites. You can be yourself - and that is enough.”

Heels here are not about appearance. They are about strength.
About how a woman in the mirror suddenly sees that she does not need permission to shine.
She is the center of the room. She is history.

I will not dance perfectly. But I will dance honestly.
With my shoulders back a little, with my hips in the rhythm of my heart.
And every time I leave the hall, I believe in myself a little more again.
And then - red lipstick. A deep breath. And the world becomes a stage.