I'm in the car on our way home, staring out the window smiling back at the moon. 
I just need to scribble down this mess of a feeling I have, to remember whenever it starts to fade.

I'm in the Netherlands, just finished my first international workshops.
I'm brought here to teach - I'm PAID to come here to teach. Flight tickets, food, it's all taken cared of. 
It's so hard to get used to getting treated like this, when in the matter of fact I could happily have done this for free. But I guess that's what it's all about, to find a way to make a living out of something you would have done even if you weren't getting paid.
All the fan photos I've taken, all the hugs I've given to thank someone for an amazing class.. Now I was the one who received the hugs, and posed awkwardly on the photos with the happy students. It's so unreal. And so my mind often makes up excuses or explanations, to why I'm only here because I'm lucky. Or - that it's actually not a big deal. All because of the people back home who don't support me, or the one's that's further on their carrier path, so that maybe I'm not supposed to show how massive this really is to me. But HEY, it fucking is. 

I'm here. 
I'm here purely because of my talent. 
I was chosen to go here, of danceschool owners who first didn't know me.
People here appriciate ME, praise ME, AND they want me to come back!
I am a hell of a good dance teacher. 
I do deserve this. 
And this, is to remind myself whenever I start trying to put myself down again. 


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