The Twin They Tried To Erase: My Mother's Million-Dollar Lie

the fall haunted me. I was more cautious, more nervou

e promised. "We've learned our lesson. No

San Francisco Ballet School's summer intensive, a

tionist. She blended "power sm

strong and light," she'd say, hand

I needed to believe she was on

al, extra-large smoothie. "For energy," she

as a dull ache. Then, it became a twisting, agonizing pain. I broke

wracked with violent cramps and dehydration. I could he

eport to the stage. Final

slot was long gone. I collapsed in the hallway. M

e been food poisoning! Tha

onsistent with ingesting a massive dose of a powerful

k stomach, that's all. You can't handle the pres

ost believed it myself. Maybe I was w

hat ended with the faked theft. That was the one that finally br

locked myself in my room. The world was gray and muffled. One night, I fo

my stomach pumped, my mot

ed. "Why would you do t

cess. My destruction. A daughter who was either dead or declared so mental

on my 21st birthday, or upon achieving "significant professional success." But there was a clause. If I died, o

he poisoned smoothie. The framed theft. The caref

fted. The part of me that wanted to be a ballerina die

s re

ospital. I didn't go home. I went to a community center in the worst

time in my life, I just danced. No technique, no r

ng. He told me about a crew that battled online

anymore. I was going to get my life back. And I was