Dear Dance,

Thank you for everything that you have done for me in the past 18 years. You have loved and supported me through the ups and downs of my life, and I can’t say enough about how much that means to me. When people in my life were not there for me, you were. When I hated myself and wanted to quit, you helped me through. When I felt lost, you held my hand and showed me the person that I can be.

At 18 months old, I really was just a bumbling mess driving around my house in my Pooh Bear wagon-like vehicle. I ran into things a lot and might or might not have broken some things, me being the clumsy toddler I was, but you showed me that I could be a graceful and beautiful ballerina if I wanted to. Heck, you even showed me that maybe someday I might be Miss America.

At 7 years old, you gave me the push I needed to try out for my studio’s competition team, and it turns out that I was one of the best decisions I could have made. The next year, I performed my very first solo and wasn’t scared at all. I felt sassy and confident when I took the stage in my sparkly top hat and feather bustle on my baby pink leotard. That first solo carried me through the next 7 or 8 years of my life by reminding me “that it’s what’s inside that counts.”

At 12 years old, you saved my life. I wanted to quit because I felt that I couldn’t amount to anything, all because a few mean girls at school wanted to make my life miserable. You showed me that life isn’t easy and neither is dance sometimes, but all the blood, sweat, and tears are worth it when the prize is satisfaction in yourself. I can’t believe that I nearly stopped doing what I love, but my dance family helped me through, and I know it made me stronger in the end.

At 15 years old, you reconnected me with one of the best dance teachers I’ve ever had and reminded me of what a great dance teacher and person she is. When I heard that she was coming to open her own studio, I was doing my first musical at school, choreographed by her, and I was aching for a change. I took a leap of faith and decided to hop off the competitive track and go to her studio to focus on my technique. I was sad about not competing anymore, but it opened me up to become an even stronger and more versatile dancer than before.

At 16 years old, I got to take on my first real job with dance at the local theater, and you helped me improve my leadership and teaching skills. I have to admit, impressing 8 to 10 year olds with dance choreography was a lot easier than I expected, but I didn’t let their opinions sway my vision for the show’s choreography. Thankfully, the staff liked it so much that I got called back to do it again the next summer!

At 17 years old, you held my hand and led me through some hard times. I lost an amazing teacher and mentor who was choreographing a piece for my first dance concert, and I got to continue her vision and finished choreographing the piece. I created a dance as a product for my senior research project because I wanted to showcase my talents and abilities. In my final dance recital, you showed me that dance means more to me than costumes and makeup and glitter; dance makes me happy, and it doesn’t matter what is happening in my life as long as I have dance. You helped me transition from studio dancing to other outlets of dance. That same year, I became a certified Zumba instructor and got to dance in one of my dream shows, “West Side Story.”

Now, I can proudly call myself a college dance team member, Zumba instructor, and dance minor. I didn’t give up on you because you never gave up on me. Many girls stop dancing after they leave their studio, but somehow, you just keep calling me back, and I always rush into your waiting arms. Dance, you are my safe haven and my favorite form of self-expression. I can always count on you to brighten my day and lift me out of a bad mood. I want nothing more than to keep you in my life and hold you close to my heart forever.

You may have found me at 18 months old with two left feet, but you have transformed me into an 18-year-old young woman with high ambitions, big dreams, and wings to take me there. It’s the classic story of the ugly duckling; in life, I felt clumsy and awkward, but dance came along and turned me poised and graceful. On days when I don’t feel beautiful, dancing, even just in my room, makes me feel beautiful.

I thank God for blessing me with the gift of dance, and I thank dance for believing in me and showing me the potential that I have. I may take bigger steps now and may not be able to fit into my child-size tutus anymore, but once a dancer, always a dancer. Thank you, dance, for being my best and lifelong friend.

Love Always,

A Not-So Tiny Dancer