I’ve always been so fascinated by the idea of dancing and expressing yourself on stage. I watch dancing on TV all the time and I just find it so interesting. During the summer my friend Abby had handed me a flyer about an openings in her dance studio and she said I should really give it a try. The last time I had actually taken a dance class was when I was four years old. And let’s be real, a dance class for four year olds is basically running and jumping on a stage with some friends. So, in reality, I didn’t have any real dance background. I had been interested in trying it for quite a while but I just never got around to it. So, I decided to give it a try. In September, I finally decided to try dance for the first time in a very long time. It was my first day and I was so nervous. All I could do was play the “what if” game with myself. What if I fall on my butt in the middle of the class? What if I don’t make any friends in my class? What if I’m simply not good enough? Question after question I doubted myself which was just making me feel more insecure. I had to put my thoughts aside for a moment and get ready to leave for ballet. I put my hair up into the perfect donut shaped bun, got changed into my leotard and pink tights, and headed out to the car.

Alright, I have arrived at the studio and it was time to go inside. My nervous thoughts started to re-appear in my mind. As I stepped inside, a massive sea of dancers flooded the studio. It was extremely overwhelming. There were dancers who were leaping so gracefully, dancers who were touching their heads with their toes, and dancers who could glide swiftly across the floor without a care in the world. I knew, right then and there, I did not belong. This dance studio wasn’t that big so the dancers were all packed closely together. The studio had dark cherry red painted walls with a musty brown wooden floor. It just smelled like sweat; pure sweat of a dancer. I walked into the lounge area to get ready for my first class. My first class was ballet, so I put on my rosy pink ballet shoes and went into Studio B. The studio was covered with a hard, black floor, again with the red walls and on the wall in the front was a massive mirror covering it from corner to corner. I looked around and I knew no one, absolutely no one. Abby had signed up for the same two classes as me, but she couldn’t come that first day, so I was all alone. As everyone in my class was reuniting with their old dance friends from previous years, I sat off to the side by myself and just began to stretch. Everyone was simply sliding down into their splits and made it look so easy when I could barely even touch my toes.

After everyone was finished talking and stretching, it was time to start class. A tall woman with short caramel brown hair and bangs that fell perfectly to the side of her face walked in. She had a very stern look on her face and I knew she won’t let anything get past her. She seemed very intimidating. This was our teacher, Miss Alyssa. She told us to get to the bar and get into first position. I knew what that was, just from common knowledge, I guess.  I scooched my heels together and spread my feet out as far as I could until it looked like a decent first position. She only briefly went over the combination because she figured we all knew what she was talking about. ”Left foot out into tendu and back in first, front tendu and back in first, again with left foot out in tendu and back in first and lastly back foot in tendu and back in first.” This sounded like gibberish to me. What was a tendu? She told us to repeat this four times until the song ended. She hit play and everyone started. I looked around and everyone seemed to know what they were doing but me. They all looked very poised and sophisticated and professional. I couldn’t just stand there; I had to do something so I just watched the person in front of me and copied what they were doing. I was doing pretty well, until it was time to face the other side. The only problem was there was no one in front of me to watch this time. Oh god, I thought, I’m going to mess it up and the person behind me is going to mess up as well because of me.
She pressed play and I started. I thought I was doing it right, but I kept looking at my feet and my teacher came over to me and told me to look forward and straighten up. That threw me off big time. I completely froze and the person behind me whispered, “Hey, why’d you stop!” I completely forgot what I had to do so I just stood there, feeling like an idiot. I felt like the whole room was just judging me. I didn’t want to come back ever again. I hate dance, I thought. It’s just not my thing. Finally, the class was over and it was time for my break. My next class wasn’t for another hour, so I got to wait in the lounge area and finish homework and eat the dinner I had packed for myself. I sat down on the bright red couch and took out my dinner. This was a good time to reflect on what just happened. I knew I didn’t fit in with the other dancers and I wasn’t sure if I liked doing this. I really didn’t want to go to my next class, or any other classes for that matter.

After my hour was up, it was time to go to my last class, modern. I just hoped this class would go better. It didn’t. Again, I knew no one. There were a few people from my ballet class who were in that class with me, but I still didn’t even know their names. My teacher for this class was much shorter than my other teacher and her name was Miss Ari. She seemed much nicer than Miss Alyssa. She had long dark brown hair that gradually faded out to blonde at the ends. She had a huge smile on her face so I knew she was going to be easy to work with. The very first thing she told us to do was improv. Wow, what a great way to embarrass myself. Improv is probably the scariest thing you can do as a beginner. You have to just dance - no planned out choreography. I didn’t know any moves and I certainly couldn’t think of moves on the spot. I was terrified. I watched the other dancers to maybe get some ideas from them to use when I had to go. The first dancer who was up was a girl named Grace. She was much taller than me and she had golden blonde hair which was slicked back perfectly into a big bun. She was amazing; she did some really cool leaps and landed each perfectly. I knew I couldn’t do that. Soon enough, it was my turn and once I got out on the floor and I imagined everyone was just watching my every move like a hawk stalking its prey. I didn’t know what to do so I just did some turns here and there and waved my arms up and around to make it seem like I knew what I was doing. After I did it, I was expecting everyone to laugh at me. They didn’t do that. I actually heard clapping! They liked that? At the time I didn’t believe it, but now I know they were just supporting me, and it felt great.

Looking back on this whole experience, I am glad that I pushed through, because everyday just got harder and harder, but that only made me work more. Class after class I just felt more comfortable. I made some friends and they reassured me that everyone starts somewhere and they all weren’t perfect back then and they still aren’t, but they’re better. Once we had our first recital, the experience was so unreal that I never wanted to quit dance. Just being on the actual stage, showing off my new- learned dancing abilities to my friends and family felt great. So, If you ever really want to do something, you need to go for it and never give up just because you, and only you, think you aren’t good enough. Other people might think you’re great but you’re only being hard on yourself because you want to be the best. To this day I still attend classes, I’ve made friends with every single person in my classes, and I never once made a fool out of myself again. And if I did, I know my friends wouldn’t laugh or judge me because, there is no such thing as a perfect dancer; it’s only a dancer’s dream.