I am, as they say in the community, “retired.” There are no late-night rehearsals. No projects. No particular motivation for me to improve my craft.
It’s been a few years since I’ve performed competitively on stage, and longer since I’ve gone to all the rehearsals I possibly could go to, rather than opt for the bare minimum. I used to take multiple classes a week, even using them as a form of physical therapy in coming back from surgery (highkey, would not recommend). Now, or pre-global health crisis at least, it would take a really bad day for me to conclude that being at Snowglobe at the time when I’d usually be getting ready for bed was the proper solution for my sorrows. My [non-existent] social media platforms are no longer oversaturated with dance videos.
“For the first time in my life, I had to take a step back and realize who I was when dance wasn’t my first priority.”
We try our best to plan out our lives, but most of the time the universe decides for us what it is we’re going to do next. Every time I really wanted to be serious about dancing, something made it so I couldn’t. When I felt like I was at my peak as a dancer, I had to make the choice to focus my time and energy on my career. For the first time in my life, I had to take a step back and realize who I was when dance wasn’t my first priority. After graduating from college, I was forced to truly evaluate just how much work it took to dance. How much I was driving, the toll it took on my body, the energy it took to socialize, how much I was maybe forcing something that wasn’t meant for me anymore. I could no longer measure my value in terms of dance. For the first time, it started to become something I had to make space in my life for.
It’s been sometime now since I started thinking about my place in dance. I have gone back and forth about feeling inspired by those who continue to pursue it and show genuine commitment, and feeling finished – sometimes feeling like I had more to offer but nowhere to give, and other times accepting that my time had passed. It’s given me the chance to take on the role of a spectator. I’ve wanted to be on stage with my friends instead of being in the audience. I’ve had my share of resistance to how things are now compared to how I knew them – the shifts of the culture and the community. I’ve had the chance to see teams continue to stay true to their core no matter the circumstances around them, and new teams rightly stake their claim. I’ve seen my peers get better and continue growing in their passion for dance. I’ve seen others gracefully make way for the new generation, and seem like they were at peace with what they accomplished during their time. Some people I know just finished dancing and that was that. They didn’t have existential crises that prompted them to cry about it in an essay.
The statement “I’m not a dancer anymore” may have different meanings for different people. It can be a statement of acceptance, or of grief. Both experiences are valid and not mutually exclusive. Some people may also never resonate with this statement, which also holds meaning. I, maybe like some others, continue to pace along the spectrum. I was so immersed in dance, and then, before I knew it, seemingly had nothing to do with it. That 180 is still something I think about on occasion. Of course, there is also a huge part of me that’s just moved on. There are now different goals and aspirations. There are new priorities. Dance is like a place I miss. I can’t always just go back.
When I do, it’s always a little bit different; I’m a bit different. All this is to say that I have no conclusion about my story yet, and that may be the takeaway in itself. So much of who I am is because of dance. My work ethic and drive could only have been pushed to where it is now by my experiences as a dancer. The competitions, the long, cold nights in the parking structure, the wins and the losses, the feeling of being on stage are all inherently part of me. The movement is only part of the experience. It may well be something I’ll do again in the future, but it just happens to be the one big part that is not as prevalent in my life right now. For the time being, I will continue to make futile plans for the future as I await the next grand adventure the universe will bring me, with or without dance.
