This year, Summer fun looks like… connecting with myself & my community outdoors. I’m gonna spend hours at Fort Greene Park – right near my crib – to contemplate life as I watch kids fly by on scooters with wide eyes and ear to ear grins. I’ll observe the quirky personalities of all the neighborhood dogs as they live their best off-leash life, while listening to drum circles under old majestic trees. And have long conversations with friends under the sun until it decides to set. 

Summer fun is music festivals, block parties, rooftop parties and reunions with old friends.

My favorite Summer memory is every Summer spent in NYC to study dance. I was lucky enough to train at Dance Theater of Harlem, Alvin Ailey School of Dance, and Broadway Dance Center. This small-town girl had been fascinated with the NYC dance scene since the tv show “FAME!” debuted in 1982. I dreamed of attending the “Fame!” school (LaGuardia High) and performing full-on production numbers on cafeteria tables. But my Summers spent in sweaty dance studios full of grit, discipline, and determination sufficed. I absolutely loved spending every day fully immersed in dance culture.

I am committed to a lifetime of fitness for function, fun, and adventure! I wanna pole dance when I’m sixty… jump out of a plane when I’m seventy… and zip-line through the jungles of Costa Rica when I’m eighty. #claimingit So before the weight of gravity continues to humble my ambitions any further, I’m fighting back with movement!

I respond to criticism about my body by internalizing it. I wish I had a more evolved way to deflect the sucker punches to my ego. But since I was a young dancer, I’ve absorbed people’s words and accompanying body language like a sponge as they commented on my thighs, my complexion or whether or not I could ever become a dancer – because of my body. That whole “sticks & stones” concept is false. Words hurt. And the pain of them lingers in my subconscious, no matter how many times I rattle off “I’m rubber, you’re glue!”.

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’m most comfortable in my skin when I’m at my performing weight. What can I say? I’m a product of a culture and a career that celebrates specific beauty ideals. I’ve been conditioned to believe that my appearance determines my worth. That my skills and talents can be overshadowed by an appearance that doesn’t match society’s standard. That lives in my subconscious but the critical voices are loud and on auto-loop. I’m not proud of it but, yes, I’d be much more comfortable in my skin if I were at

I show my body gratitude by knowing her love languages: quality time and physical touch. As a dancer I’ve had an intimate relationship with my body since I was 5yo. She’s always received my focused and undivided attention. I’ve spent most of my life partnering with her in the exploration of movement; allowing my body to experience its greatest capabilities and wildest dreams. Together we built a dance and aerial arts career; performing on sets and stages around the world. And because my body has so generously allowed me to indulge in my passions, I listen carefully to her needs.