Circus Sequins

Tiffany McKinney — Circus Sequins

I woke up one morning, opened my eyes, and waited. I knew this morning would be the same as every other morning had been for the past two months. My husband and best friend of 22 years had passed away and I waited for grief to greet me. I waited for my brain to start the same argument to just stay in the bed and not get up. But I did. I got up and it was Monday. I checked my cell phone and I smiled. My group of girlfriends, they were texting me, giving me messages of encouragement.

Telling me they were proud of me and sending me memes of hoops of fire, someone taming a lion, and a lady in a sparkly leotard flying through the air. The week prior, I had decided I had to do something to make myself feel better, something to help me find joy. And I was working with a personal trainer. I had signed up for a swim class when I saw a local news segment interviewing the owner of the Detroit Fly House Circus. Yes. So I said, ooh. But what I was really impressed about is they had aerial silks, and I don’t know if you know what that is, but it’s the fabric in the air, and you see the fancy ladies up there in their sparkly costumes swinging through the air, and I could just see myself in the sparkly leotard. So I joined the circus. That Monday was to be my first day of circus training, so I put on my T‑shirt and my leggings, the uniform of circus people, I guess, and went down to the Detroit Fly House Circus.

So when I got there, I mean, it was just a warehouse. I wasn’t impressed, but I don’t know what I expected to see, but I was still excited. And there was about a group of eight of us, and as you can imagine, we were a very eclectic group down there ready to take circus classes. And so they divided the class up into two groups, and my group started first on the aerial silks. And you could see the silk in the air. It was so beautiful. It was purple. And the instructor walks over and pulls the cord. And, I mean, it just dramatically, like, flowed from the ceiling. It was so beautiful. And I was so excited. So we stood in a line. And the instructor told us he taught us how to hold and mount the fabric and pull ourselves up. So I’m standing last in the line of four people. And one by one. First person goes up, wraps their arm up, wraps their foot up, and pulls himself into the air.

So eventually it’s my turn. Now these people, some of them apparently had had circus training prior to that day. Because they were up there spinning and doing all kinds of flips and tricks. And I’m mesmerized, not thinking eventually it’s going to be my turn. But once I grabbed onto the rope and I felt the weight of myself, like, I promise you, it was not until that point that I actually thought about it. And like, reality crash, it like slapped me in the face. And I’m thinking, first of all, I’m heavy. Second of all, I mean, I’m probably the oldest one in this room. I was older than everybody, including that little instructor. And I’m out of shape, but I’m there now. So I’m holding on and I’m trying to pull myself up. And as I’m trying, I managed to get like two feet off the ground, but my foot is tangled up in the fabric and it’s squeezing it so tightly and it hurts.

So I kind of fumbled my way down. And I’m embarrassed, and I’m sweating, okay, and I’m out of breath. But everybody is just kind of gracious, and we just go with it, and the instructor continues to tell us how to do these other tricks on the silks. And every time, I’m last in the line of four, and these people just get up there and spin around and make it look so easy, and it’s my turn, and I’m out of breath, and I’m out of shape, and I’m so embarrassed. So about an hour in, we take a break. And at this point, I am just overwhelmed. I’m so humiliated, and I’m still sweating. And I just decided, first of all, I couldn’t look anybody in the face. So I just said, keep your head down, get your purse, get in the car, go home. So I grabbed my purse. I walked out the door. I got into the parking lot. And I promise you, as soon as my foot hit the parking lot, I felt the Lord speak to me and remind me that this was my story. Nobody in there knew that every single day I was fighting for the will to live.

Nobody knew how hard it was, and nobody else had that story, and I wasn’t going to let them take this little bit of joy from me. So I wiped my face, I turned around, and went back to the circus. so the second half of class we still have to finish the class the second half of class we learned tricks on a hoop now when I signed up for this in my mind I thought what hula hoop because I see ladies at the circus using a hula hoop no no this is a thin metal hoop hanging about five feet off the ground from this thick rope right and oh god here we go I’m thinking I’m gonna have my rocky moment this is gonna be it but that’s not what happened So the instructor starts again, and he’s telling us how to get up on this hoop or whatever. And again, I’m last in the line of four people. And it’s just as hard.

I’m struggling. I’m sweating. They even had to lower that hoop down one foot just for me. But let me tell you something. By the time I pulled all 230 pounds up on that low metal hoop, the entire class was cheering for me, including the instructor. I almost cried. I was so excited. So I just, I had my moment. I took it. I closed my eyes and I leaned back and I pictured myself in this sparkly leotard. And when I opened my eyes, the little instructor is standing there. He’s like, you want me to take your picture? No, sir. I know this is not look like anything like what it does in my head. Just leave me be. So needless to say, life is still not what I expected it to be. It’s still messy. It’s still hard. I still have to be reminded that this is my story and I get to walk it out however I choose. But I know how to find joy even in the hard things.

And while I finished that six-week class, I did not return to the circus. Instead of hoping for a sparkly leotard, I just went to Target and bought one.