"You see that," the gravely voice thunders, "there's nobody here as fat as you. Nobody else's stomach is as big, nobody's arms swing like yours. Nobody else has to modify the steps like you do. Nobody sweats like you do."

"Tighten those ABs," I hear from the front of the room. "She's talking to you," he laughs. The voice hurts inside my head.

My face falls. My steps slow. My shoulders slump. Maybe I don't belong here.....

"You're doing great. You belong here as much as anyone else, and all that matters is that you feel the accomplishment of doing, and the gift that you're giving yourself." The second voice is soft, soothing, quiet. "You've never let anything stop you from doing what you wanted to do....don't start now." My heart quiets, assured.

A minute later, the first voice comes again, "You should just give up  and go home. Leave the dancing to the pretty people." I recognize this voice now. It's the adversary, The one who gave up his right to have a body, any body. The one who would kill for mine, as imperfect as it is.

My heart lifts a little. My determination solidifies. And I dance on.....