Chronicles of a Competition Dancer.

I remember my first solo like it was yesterday. I was nine. The song, well, it was “Party in the USA” by Miley Cyrus, and yes, I thought I was the coolest kid on the block. I wore a purple, black and white plaid mini dress with rhinestones on it and my hair in a high-pony. And for some reason my mom thought it was a good idea to put purple eyeshadow on me insert eye roll here. I went up on that stage and shook my butt like nobody was watching. I auditioned for the competition team the next season, and that’s where this story begins.

While I don’t compete anymore, I did for nine years. For nine years I left school early, skipped parties, stayed up all hours of the night finishing homework, traveled every weekend, barely was able to move most days because my body hated me, learned dance after dance. Sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it. All the late nights, blood, sweat, & tears.

Dance was always hard for me. I was never like all of my friends. My friends that could turn on a dime, my friends that could put their leg behind their heads no questions asked, my friends that could jump higher than you would believe. I had to work for all of those things, by putting in extra hours at the studio, taking extra technique classes and private lessons. I used to hate this and it was the source of a lot of anxiety and stress for me. I used to have panic attacks before dance practice because I was terrified of getting screamed at or being the one that messed up. On top of this, the competitive dance world was getting more cutthroat year after year. People were expected to be better dancers at younger ages. By the time I graduated the minis were doing things I didn’t know how to do until I was fifteen. Still, I kept going because the feeling you get while you’re onstage doing something you love is unmatched- there is absolutely nothing like it.

Despite all of it’s challenges, the good parts were so good my love for dance continued to be unwavering. Those highs you felt after winning a competition, to know all of your hard work was paying off week after week. The feeling you would get when one of your teachers or a competition judge gave you a compliment. Or when you finally nailed a turn you’ve been working on for months. Not to mention, I got to do all of these things with my best friends. We had some of the best experiences, like when we all rented a house on the beach for a week for nationals and then became national champions. Or when we went to New York City during a snow storm and the whole city shut down, we were dancing in the middle of the street in Midtown. Moments like these are what made it all worth it.

You may be wondering why I’m writing about this. I don’t even compete anymore. Well, I like telling this story for a couple reasons. First, I like giving people a little insight on what being a competition dancer is like. A lot of people I went to high school with thought I spent hours every night twirling around in a pink tutu because it was “fun” or because I “liked the sparkles”. When in reality, my dance practices were probably harder than most of the “regular sport” practices. Second, while some of my experiences competing were very negative, and have resulted in all sorts of issues from being a twenty year old who needs hip surgery to horrible anxiety, I learned so so much. Everything from my work ethic to self-confidence, and maybe learning some cool party tricks too ;) I mean, not many people can do a triple leg catch turn or hold a twenty minute wall-sit. Lastly, even through all of the panic attacks and tears, dance will always be my first love and will always hold a huge piece of my heart. It impacted my life in ways I could’ve never imagined, and I think every little girl should get the chance to experience how wonderful it is.