Remember the movie The Truth About Cats and Dogs? One woman was smart but considered plain while the other was model-gorgeous, but everyone assumed she was dumb as a brick. The first lived her life as a woman heard, but never seen; the second, seen, but never heard. I felt like the first woman for a long time. Then I started belly dancing with Sabrina. Now I enjoy being seen as well as heard, and the difference in how I feel about myself is astounding.

 

You don’t have to be supermodel-thin to belly dance—in fact, the very moves of belly dancing echo and celebrate feminine curves. Instead of cursing my fleshy behind and thighs, I now appreciate how alluring and graceful they look when I’m doing downward-8’s or omi’s. (Don’t know what those are? Come to a class and find out!) Belly dancing is good exercise, but it’s kind on my not-so-young-anymore joints. Conquering a challenging movement gives me a sense of mastery and joy I never thought I’d have doing anything requiring physical talent.

 

Taking class from Sabrina is always a guaranteed high point of my week. Her creativity, obvious love for her students, and infectious sense of humor make every class worth more than the price of admission. In the whopping one year that I’ve been attending class, Sabrina’s already introduced us to beledi and floor work, Turkish finger cymbals (called “zils”), graceful veil technique and a robust gypsy-flavored dance called the karsilama. If I’m stumped learning one move with the first way she teaches it, she finds another way to teach me until I get it.

 

Most of all, I can’t believe how comfortable I’ve grown in my own skin since I started taking class with Sabrina. If you’d told me a year ago that I’d not only be willing to perform in a revealing belly dance costume in front of strangers, but look forward to it, I would have asked you what drugs you were taking. Now, I just smile and ask if you’re coming to the show.

--Lisa Smith Quincy MA