Dance had always been a central part of my life from a very early age. Even from the time I lived in Peru, I was in ballet classes the moment I started walking. I had experience in ballet, jazz, and hip-hop but had never been challenged the way I was with Latin dance.

I had some experience with the ballroom style of Latin dance, but did not know how to dance it ‘traditionally.' Being Hispanic, I had grown up watching people dance salsa and the like, but at parties, and I always avoided being pulled onto the dance floor.

After some time comparing studios, my family and I finally found one that taught everything I was looking for. I had long hours of technique and styling, which challenged me because I was used to the gentle movements of ballet. Latin dance required speed and attitude, so it took years of practice and discipline for me to finally feel confident when I danced.

With this studio, I performed all over Charlotte and competed in local and state championships. I had a great group of friends and I really admired my instructors for the dedication they had towards making us great dancers. But just when I was at the top, it all abruptly ended my junior year in high school.

I had been pretty good at balancing my schoolwork and practice, but as most of us students probably remember, junior year was the hardest. With college looming around the corner I had to dedicate more time to my AP classes, volunteering and choosing colleges. I no longer had the energy or time for five-hour practices and intense workouts. I was exhausted but thought I could somehow still make it work.

I reached my breaking point the day I took my first SAT. I had a performance at a huge festival right after my test, so the nerves from this, plus the lack of sleep and stress finally took a toll on me. I studied very hard for the standardized test, but my mind went blank and I was devastated when I heard time was up.

I had no time to even think about my failure when I was already in the car, doing my makeup and putting on my costume. It was complete chaos in that car, with my mom trying to beat traffic and my dance teachers calling to tell me they were stalling as much as they could. I began crying hysterically when I could no longer hold it all in.

My mom had no time to comfort me as we reached the festival and I only had thirty seconds before the music started. I got there right on time but still had tears coming down. The dance started with our backs towards the crowd, and I clearly remember wiping my tears away and telling myself “no more.”

The dance started a split second after and it was over just as fast as it had started. I was able to give it my all and smiled throughout because I finally felt relieved. I knew this stressful period was over for me, so I wanted to remember every single detail of my last performance. I remember how loud the audience cheered us on, the smiling faces of my friends and the proud look on my teacher’s face.

When the dance was over, I cried again. I did not want to leave the stage, as I felt that by doing so I was leaving a part of me up there. It took years of arduous practice to get me on that stage, but I knew it was for the best. No matter how emotional, the discipline and life lessons I was taught in dance still apply to my daily life, and I still do miss the act itself terribly.

The saying “if it was meant for you it will always come back” doesn’t only apply to people, but to the things we love and have to let go. I have promised myself to get back into dancing when the time comes, and I know that soon enough I’ll be up on a stage again salsa dancing my life away.