Dancing on Eggshells

by Esme Roberts

Navigating the balance of two different worlds is a challenge that many people have to encounter. As I navigated my life at school and my passion for dance, I met you. I thought I could easily maintain a friendship with you and it would not affect my school life. However, not only did our friendship impact how I was in school, socially and academically, but it also created an alternative version of myself, stripped of all her depth and feeling, and whose only purpose was to serve you. You never cared enough to know the real me, yet you consumed so much of my time and energy, that it was hard to focus on anything else.

When we first became friends, I was a fFreshman at Crossroads, and you were some cool Junior on my dance team who went to Santa Monica High. It’s weird to think that I am now the age you were when we first became friends. I would admire you from a distance in dance class, too nervous to say anything. However, after our first dance competition that year, everything changed. 

“I’m so nervous, Esme,” you admitted.

“I am too,” I responded, “but you’re going to do so well. I’ve seen you dance and I genuinely think you are one of the most talented people I’ve ever met.” i’m

“But what if I forget my choreography?” I could see the self-doubt flicker behind your eyes.

“You won’t. It’s our first competition so of course, you're feeling nervous. All of us are! But, again, this is your first of many competitions, even if you do mess up, you’ll have so many chances to get it right in the future.” 

I smiled, hoping to cheer you up.

“Thank you, Esme.,” You smiled back and hugged me. 

It wasn’t long before you became one of my best friends. Our friendship was an interesting thing to navigate, as I never had a friend as close as you who didn’t go to school with me. You provided a place I could go to, separate from all of the school drama, gossip, and cliques. You didn’t know me based on anyone else's perception of me other than your own. 

When it came to my life at school, I was a hard worker and always there for my friends. It never felt weird to share every aspect of my life with my school friends, good or bad. They provided the space for me to vent, and I did the same for them. I was truly myself around my school friends until I met you. 

Our friendship was built on you sharing your issues with me while I would listen silently. At the time, I was flattered that you felt comfortable enough to confide in me. I now realize that your problems were the only thing we would talk about. You would tell me the most horrifying, hard-to-cope-with things, but wouldn’t like it if I reacted negatively to it. So, I would pretend not to notice the self-harm scars that covered your body. I acted like everything was normal when you were out of dance for a month due to your eating disorder. Once I felt the pressure to help you with something so impossible for a 15-year-old girl to cure, it was hard to focus on anything else. 

“The doctors say if I go to the competition this weekend, I will literally die or collapse on stage,” you casually told me one day.

“Then don’t,” I said, trying to match your tone and not knowing how to respond. 

“I like playing Russian Roulette with my life, it's kind of fun. I’ll lie to my doctors about it, I do that all the time anyway.”

 I put off homework assignments because I believed your life was in my hands and it was my responsibility to fix you. The Esme you knew maintained a consistent smile. The Esme you knew had no problems of her own. You acted as if everything you were struggling with was normal and insignificant and you expected me to do the same. Therefore, the Esme you didn’t know had to process your issues alone. The real Esme, who was more than a one-dimensional person and tried hard in school, became quiet and fell behind. I would stay up late texting and calling you. My parents would question why I would be up in my room on the phone for hours at a time, missing my dinner, just so I could make sure you would eat yours.

“Esme, why are you always talking to her?” 

My friends resented you for taking me from them. “You’re never here anymore and you’re too sensitive now.” 

I thought it was necessary to brush off my friends because I was doing this for your well-being. I sacrificed so much for you, but none of it matters anymore. 

Now, you’re in college. We promised each other we would stay in touch, but it is only November, and we already barely talk. I wonder how different my life would have been at school last year if you didn’t dump everything on me and expect me to fix it. Would other friendships be stronger? Would my grades be higher? If I had realized sooner that certain issues were out of my control, would I have been kinder to myself? I want you to know that I don’t resent you for everything you put me through last year. I know you needed someone to be there for you and I hope I was able to provide that. I still think you are one of the most talented people I have ever met, and despite it all, I’ll always love you.