when our furniture had arrived from Paris. My parents were adamant that when we moved around the world for my fatherâs job, the furniture would always come with us to keep some things consistent for the children. It was the best idea because it made me feel so much at home. Each piece of furniture was filled with wonderful memories.
During this time I continued with my ballet and skating and now started piano classes as well. Since school was not enriching my curious mind, my mother organized after-school classes for me that taught the Japanese language, Japanese arts and crafts, and various other subjects to keep my mind intrigued. We used to have these classes in our new home and have some of my best friends from school join as well. Or we would explore in the parks and catch tadpoles or play with my turtles I had as pets. I loved reptiles and bugs and refused to kill any living organism.
And yes, there was ice-skating. It was there, and boy-oh-boy, in a different way than it was in Paris. For my sister, of course, going to the ice rink was one of the first things she did upon arriving in Tokyo. She absolutely loved ice skating, I think more than I did then or ever would. My parents found the best skating rink in Tokyo and there my sister began lessons from a Japanese lady coach. She was the second-best teacher at the rink and my parents took her because she spoke English quite well and was a good fit for my sister.
I started with group lessons cornered off to one side of the rink while all the older skaters swished by. I would look at them in awe, wanting private lessons as well and wanting to skate on their side of the ice. I detested the group lessons and showed it. I actually never liked doing anything in groups. I liked to be alone, in my own world with my own thoughts. I didnât like to be told what to do and having everyone else doing the same thing as me. I refused to go to the group lessons, but still wanted to skate, so my mother had me start private lessons with the lady coach. My sister went every morning and afternoon before and after school. I went just in the afternoon, as I was only four and my plate was already full with once-a-week skating lessons, three-times-a-week ballet lessons, once-a-week piano lessons, and of course skating on my own as well as attending school, so my parents didnât want to push me more.
My sister and I were the only foreigners at the ice rink and so the teasing began. They used to joke about my sisterâs long legs, about our blond hair, our freckles, and anything you could imagine. We were outcasts and although I was so young and did not understand the language, body language can express all that is needed to understand. Kids know more than they can say and unconsciously I started to get more and more insecure about myself. As years progressed it would get worse, and the kind of French self-confidence and bubbly characteristics I previously had would soon be frozen in time like the water I skated on.
By the time I was eight years old I was in second grade and absolutely loved school. I could sit in my room for hours studying and reading and making experiments or being out in the nature playing with Godâs creations. But there wasnât too much time for that since I had now had picked up cello to add to the piano and my skating, and ballet became more and more serious. At age seven I had received a scholarship to the Royal Ballet of London and spent a summer at the school to see if it was to my liking. On returning to Tokyo my mother told me that I had a very serious and important decision to make that would impact and change the course of my whole life with this one turn of fate. I had to choose to pursue either ballet, skating, piano, or cello, because I could not succeed in anything properly if I were to do them all. There just wasnât enough time in a day, and I was excelling at them all so it was time to devote my energy and talents into one
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