I danced for the majority of my life growing up, 15 years actually. The best of those years was the last four, the time I spent competing for my high school dance team. Still, some of my favorite memories are planted within a coach bus or gym with my teammates. I miss the craziness of it all.
I miss the adrenaline, something I have yet to find in any other aspect of my life, and I doubt I ever will. It’s hard to beat a stadium of people, 360 degrees around you, screaming for you as you do what you love most. I miss that, those crazy, indescribable, adrenaline filled three minutes.
I never thought the day would come where I say this, but I actually miss practice. Some days were brutal in a way only dancers would understand, but always rewarding. The longest planks, the constant kicks, circuits, the never ending “one more times”, when we actually went for runs. Our bodies ached because we wanted them to and we knew that pushing ourselves would bring success. The days we sweated the most and worked the hardest are when we saw the most results and when we felt the most like a team. It was hard, but we always left practice feeling strong and resilient, a feeling I miss every day.
Our fans were dedicated. Wearing matching outfits, waking up at crazy hours to get the best seats, learning how to cheer us on, and making us to-go lunches, not to mention funding it all. I miss seeing my family and friends in the stands physically cheering me on. I wish I could have recorded them so when I’m feeling down I can look at them, red in the face, uncontrollably clapping, maybe crying and all of that was for me, even the during the times I didn't feel good enough.
Dance team wasn’t really a win or lose sport, but getting a place less than what you hoped for was sometimes considered a loss. I remember having some of those losses and being devastated, but I also remember the wins following that and the pride and accomplishment that ran through us. With every loss, even the most devastating ones, come with a lesson. The greatest one I ever learned from this was that doing your best, for yourself, is better than any recognition or award you could have ever received. Most of the time, losing was when we felt the most fired up, and I miss that too.
I miss being critiqued. In no way, shape or form are we corrected in every day life like we were in dance. You can’t see yourself dance and you can’t see the things you’re doing wrong, so someone would point that out for you. At times, it sucked to hear you were messing up but it always gave you something to work for, something to focus on. I found that being corrected and zooming in on the smaller things, rather than the huge picture, was what motivated me to be better. It still is and I use that all the time.
Every competition, minutes before we went to dance, we had rituals, something a lot of teams have. It was the same every time, a combination of different motivations, and that consistency was something we depended on. I miss sitting in a room with all of my best friends, eager to perform, nervous, listening to our coaches and everyone being focused on the same thing. Those regular moments, huddled up, holding the shaking hands of my teammates will be remembered forever. I miss that enormous feeling of unity.
Ultimately, I miss working towards a common goal with some of my favorite people. To this day, one of the most rewarding things in my life is accomplishing those very goals. There is nothing like that feeling; working hard and striving for something with people you love and seeing your dreams come true.
To those who are still lucky enough to be in the dance years, embrace the little things. The bruised outer thighs, the ache between your shoulder blades, the feeling of the wood floor under your feet, the pressure of marking time, the gel, the sleepovers, the soup at that one competition, the excited hug from your mom, the spandex-y outfits and the annoying zipper, the medal around your neck, you'll miss all of those things too.
In the big scheme of things, the outcome of high school sports isn’t important. Since graduating, I’ve never been asked how amazing my team was or how we placed in the state. The lessons I learned within that time are something I use every day, though. I learned determination, dedication, teamwork, task management, cohesiveness, along with how to wake up early and focused, and how to craft a mean slick back bun and a killer smoky eye. I think I’ll always miss the root of all of that but until I get the opportunity to dance again, I’ll carry over the lessons I’ve learned from a life of dancing to my new, less dance-y life
