Years of ballet classes have not only taught me how to pas de bourrée away from my troubles, they have also taught me that nothing is as valuable as dancing like no one is watching. No matter what studio I was at, there was always that cursive wall decal plastered above the barre: “Sing like no one is listening. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's watching.”
I’ve always liked that quote. Simple yet profound. It touches upon the most basic human pleasures. And despite their simplicity, many of us, myself included, find that doing these things aren’t as simple as we thought.
Contrary to the money, effort and time that me and my family have put in, I was no Misty Copeland. But, I danced anyways, for there is no feeling quite like ballet class. With its rigid structure, your muscles must know how to twitch and contort to create the perfect line. It was pure elegance. But that wasn't me. I love pink and I love frill, but I must've been the clumsiest girl to ever don those leather slippers. One thing for sure, though, was that I knew how to get down.
One costume change, a quick scene rearrangement and I'm alone. But not in a scorching hot, upstairs studio. Instead, I'm here, in my room. Tchaikovsky no longer fills my ears, the piano is replaced with guitars and four harmonizing boys. There's a mirror here, but I do not look for mistakes or correct hip placement. I am too busy putting on a one woman show that would make Queen Bey proud.
And this is where it happens. Within these four walls, I don't care about my turnout, what my form is and, more importantly, what I look like. It is here that I am most myself, just me and the music. I wish I was like that all the time.
But, I am cautious and I am careful. Well, I try to be. I think in terms of first impressions and lasting assumptions about who people are, or more accurately, who they make themselves out to be. I admit that I do this as well - set up a barrier so that only a select few gain admission to my dance recital.
But why do we do this? Why do we hinder ourselves? Stop ourselves from letting go of our inhibitions for fear that we won’t be good enough, or fear that we will fail? The funny thing is that we do try, but it’s always for other people. Why do we always dance for them but never for ourselves?
This year, I want to live every day as if nobody is watching. Join this club or go to that event because I want to, without fear of being judged or feeling out of place. History may have its eyes on me, but that doesn’t mean I have to act like it.
