We would get home from school, drop our backpacks, put on our dance clothes and out the door we went. The car ride to our dance studio was short, as we sat in the backseat of our mom's small SUV. As we approached the dance studio we grabbed all of our belongings, and sprinted toward the door. Our night was just beginning.

Our schedules looked pretty similar to this:

4:00-5:00 Jazz

5:00-6:30 Ballet

7:00-7:30 Solo

7:30-8:00 Tumbling

8:00-9:00 Groups

As we ran from class to class our moms sat in the back room, sipping diet sodas, munching on salads (or whatever fad diet they were doing that week), and gluing rhinestones to our competition costumes for the upcoming season. This happened every single night. These aren't the only things that every competition dancer had in common.

"I can't I have dance"

We gave up our dreams of being star basketball players, soccer players, or volleyball players. As competitive dancers we gave up just about any hobby that we ever tried, because dance always came first. Where we lacked in sports we picked up in other areas. We were very talented (by very young ages) at applying a full face of makeup, gluing rhinestones to costumes, and choreographing our own dances. This common excuse was also often used when our friends would ask us to spend time with them. They wouldn't understand, but soon you brainwashed them into taking recreational classes at your studio. It still wasn't the same.

Undergarments

Unless you were a competitive dancer you probably wouldn't have seen the inside of a Victoria's Secret until you were at least 15. Dancers on the other hand had to stock up on nude thongs, seamless panties, sticky boobs and almost any other "invisible" undergarment you can think of. We weren't modest, either. If someone forgot their "sticky boobs" it was completely OK. They could borrow yours.

Picture day

No, this is not a day where your mom puts you in your best clothes, and parts your hair awkwardly down the middle. Every dancer knew that picture day was the best day ever. You did your hair and makeup just as if you were going to competition, but instead you made the oh-so-familiar drive to the dance studio. Every single dancer was there, and boy were they ready to have their moment in front of the camera. Soloists ran through their routines thinking of the perfect posed, and group numbers came up with unique (not unique at all) poses. Our moms stood behind the photographer snapping pictures with their camera phones, because they were just too excited.

Awards

Competitions were the best. You got to spend your entire weekend with your dance family, and your extended dance family. No other part of competitions compared to the awards ceremonies. You wore your rhinestone covered warm-up jacket, a pair of "booty shorts," and a pair of socks up your knees that had the name of whatever competition you were attending printed on the side. You did the Cupid Shuffle, The Wobble, The Soulja Boy, and every other dance craze before the MC calmed everyone down. You secretly (not so secretly) prayed that you would get in the Top 10 so you could scream your choreographer's name and studio name into the microphone. These 10 seconds were the closest thing that you ever felt to fame.

"So... did you win?"

Kids at school would always ask this question. Your response would be something along the lines of "We got platinum, and first overall in the junior large group category." This meant nothing to them. These words meant nothing to someone who had never attended a dance competition before, but you knew that you slayed the competition the weekend before.

We've had a dance to virtually every song

So here's how it goes... If you've ever heard the song I've either had a competition routine to the song, I learned a combo to the song at a convention, or my teacher used it in class. Every. Single. Song. The exception to this statement is that we never used songs that were on the radio. Competitive dance is notorious for using older, less popular songs. It's kind of an unspoken rule that if you're using a newer song that it has to be some edgy cover, or the acoustic version. You can never go wrong with an emotional lyrical solo to an acoustic song.

Competitive dancers are one of a kind, but they all share the same experiences. We studio kids do not regret the years upon years that we spent at the dance studio. Being competitive dancers has made us the people we are today. So, don't mind me when I whip out my choreography from 2004 to "Material Girl" by Madonna in the aisles of the grocery store.