“I was born in a Thunderstorm, I grew up overnight...”

OK, I may be stealing some words from Sia there... but honestly with what life has been so far I often wonder.

I was actually born in Russia. I have many childhood memories of this mother country, of a very independent start to life. One of my favourites stories to tell is when I was around 3 or 4 years old, I was sent to buy some eggs (yes, that’s right at 4, alone, having lived on the 8th floor of our concrete apartment building). I had a troublesome relationship with the building elevator, whose temperamental spirit left me stuck between floors as it broke down occasionally (again, often alone or with a friend also no older than 4). As an adult I have, no kidding, had a therapy session on that experience... but I digress. Having no trust in the elevators reliability, I often opted to climb the 8 flights of stairs. Now being 4, made me the perfect height to smash the bag with eggs against every step I took. So you can only imagine the scrambled concoction I came back with. Safe to say I wasn’t asked to buy eggs again for quite a while. Instead I helped my grandfather roll his cigarettes. Ahh the times.

I have fond memories of the community that we had at the time, older gentlemen playing chess as they smoked their cigars, random get togethers with guitars and music, to which I would dance my heart out. But also the harsher realities of life, like the time I was attacked by 3 slighter older homeless boys who wanted my sandwich, with my mother yelling from the 8th floor window she supervised me from.

It was another time of peril and upheaval in Russia, and in 1993, under very difficult circumstances, we made a desperate escape to Australia, which became my new home.

The parallel story to my life is that I was also born to dance. Some people take a while to figure out their purpose. I knew before I could walk. At the age of 3 my mother had (by first lying about my age) enrolled me in a 5 year old ballet class (this was the beginning age for classes at the time). I can still remember hiding in her big fur coat to drink a bottle of milk before skipping back to the floor feeling myself an equal to the older girls around me.

Once in Australia I was again enrolled in a ballet academy, this time with my real age noted down. I excelled and the future seemed bright. Unfortunately for my dancing, around the time I was 7 was also when my parents, desperately seeking spiritual guidance and answers to life’s big questions became heavily involved in Religion. Extracurricular activities were discouraged so as to minimise contact with ‘the world’ and considered a distraction from the primary purpose of worship. And thus, my dancing came to a halt. I spent the next couple decades bitter and without a sense of my identity. I could barely watch a ballet performance without breaking into tears over my stolen passion and unexpressed movement and emotions which lay dormant and screaming deep inside...

At 21 I was married, to my incredible husband, Tony. Who continues to be the my biggest support and love, I’m sure a blog article or poem will come about this amazing human.

At 23 we unexpectedly became parents to our first son Eli-sha. And then with some actual planning came our second son, Jayden in 2013.

Our start to parenthood has been a traumatic one, something I will delve into in my blogs when I gather the strength from time to time to express the pain.

We nearly lost Jayden at 6 weeks. But the triumph of his survival was quickly marred by the darkness of very suddenly losing our beautiful Eli-sha on the 13/10/2014, a date that is also Jayden’s 1st birthday.

The grief and trauma that followed is in many ways indescribable, but I occasionally approximate valid expression through poem.

Eli-sha’s death marked a new era for me. So much of what has changed and happened, both good and awful has been because of the life and death of my darling, sweetheart boy.

For me, the becoming of self, the real finding of Milla has happened as a direct result of losing Lishy. Because when you hit a place of zero, a place where just surviving in severe physical and mental pain and sickness is no longer an option, and you must choose between ‘die’ or ‘thrive,’ well, you’ve really got to shake shit up if you’re going to keep living.

So. I first found horses. A deep impactful discovery, that was embarked after the shallow acknowledgment that I looked great in boots and leggings. Again, story for another time.

But then came the ‘oh my god! Why the hell am I not dancing?!’

And so I dragged myself to a beginners ballroom class, aged 30, body full of pain, tension and injury, brain in a fog, head dizzy with anxiety, not able to keep up with the kids in the class, and I DANCED!

The rest, as they say is history... except in this case it is something that I want to make history with! And so, now nearly 3 years down the track, I have exciting developments and achievements, but more than anything I have finally re-tapped into my superpower, my ability, my dream, my passion, self belief and an intrinsic knowing, that I am onto something big!

... life to be continued...