You point your toes at unnecessary times
I’ve noticed that I point my toes when I swing my legs over to get out of bed in the morning, I point my toes when sliding socks on my feet, and I point my toes when I’m going down a slide of any shape or form. I believe this comes from the traumatizing experience of getting “point your toes!” yelled at you every time mid-flight during a leap, and from getting told, from a young age, that every time your foot leaves the floor that those toes need to be pointed… or else.
You dance when you’re nervous
Some people twirl their hair, pop their fingers, bite their nails, etc. But us dancers? Nope. We’re over in a corner shuffling our feet, and practicing a relevé. I’ve noticed if I’m anxious or just can’t get my mind off of something, I’ll find myself in a studio somewhere, or having my own personal concert in the middle of my bedroom on those pesky, restless nights.
Music isn’t just music anymore
When you’ve been dancing long enough, you start to make the transition where you don’t really see yourself as just a dancer anymore, but a choreographer, too. You’ve become inspired throughout your years of being a dancer and, all of a sudden, you catch yourself subconsciously choreographing every single song that plays. We don’t sing along to the lyrics, we’re choreographing in our heads. Needless to say, I take my music-listening very seriously these days.
Wide open spaces make you excited
All I’m going to say is there is almost no greater feeling than when you’ve been holed up in a classroom all day trying to run choreography through your head, then finally getting to a wide open space so you can dance your little heart out. Simple as that.
You are really uncoordinated outside of dance class
Seriously. People don’t believe me when I tell them I’m uncoordinated. They always seem to respond with “But you’re a dancer.” Yes, yes, indeed, I am. I’m a great dancer, but I’m not great at being a coordinated human being. There’s a difference. After having to be extremely coordinated for hours of rehearsal, I really don't blame my body for just giving up on being coordinated after that.
You choreograph in the worst places
I don’t quite understand this quirk about us dancers, but it seems to be a quirk popular among all of us. When we’re in the studio, we’re completely blank half of the time, but the second we step into that shower after rehearsal it’s like we become an award-winning choreographer. Ideas come flooding in and, because we don’t want to risk forgetting this pure genius, we risk running around half-naked to find a piece of paper and pencil, and even risk injury by dancing in the shower. I have also found that this pure-genius moment happens while driving, as well—don’t choreograph and drive, people. It’s not safe.
You sleep in dance positions
After dancing for a long period of time, dance becomes a part of us. It becomes a part of our hearts, minds, souls, and our bodies. So no matter how hard we try to escape it, it’s always going to be there, even in our sleep. I can’t tell you how comfortable it is to sleep with my leg in passe. I guess my leg is just so used to being there that it figures it might as well be there in my sleep, too. Or maybe I’m just so hard-working that I practice in my sleep. You be the judge.
You leap over puddles and other random things
We dancers don’t save our talents just for the dance floor, we also use these talents in our everyday lives. Oh, there’s a large puddle in my way? No problem! I’ll just split leap myself right on over that while everybody else just stands there and stares as you jazz-walk away.
You practice at every waking moment
In the dance world, we are thrown curve-balls all the time. You may find yourself filling in for another dancer at last minute, or having to learn a lot of pieces in a short amount of time. With other obligations in life, we can’t always be in the studio as much as we like and, when we’re not there, we’re practicing somewhere else. I find myself practicing and running over dances while standing in line, walking down the sidewalk at school, in grocery store aisles, in my kitchen waiting for my food to cook, in elevators and hallways. You name it, I’ve probably practiced a dance there before.
You do everything with your feet/legs
It’s no question that dancers have strong legs and feet. Of course we dance with our entire bodies, but the legs and feet are emphasized more than anything, therefore we use our legs more than anything when we dance and this transfers into our daily lives. When my hands are full and I can’t open a door, no problem! I find myself whipping my foot up to the handle and opening it up that way, or just kicking it open with my leg. I grab things with my feet all the time, it’s really become quite easy and second-nature. I even bowl with my legs. My poor arms aren’t very strong, so I’ll sit down and shove the ball with my leg instead. Don’t be surprised if I get a strike, either.
You can’t watch other dances in peace
Most people go to dance events to be entertained, but when you’ve been dancing for a long time, it’s hard to watch other dance events and not pick them apart for everything that they’re worth. While other people are just enjoying the moment, there’s probably a dancer in the audience somewhere cringing.
That hilarious realization that one of your legs is stronger than the other
All dancers come to a point in their career where they start noticing that their legs are really strong. However, where most dancers favor the right leg instead of the left leg while doing pirouettes, you’ll notice that your right calf muscle is drastically larger than the left. I specifically remember a dance practice from my early high school years where one of my teammates realized her right calf muscle was bigger than the left. We all made fun of her, until we realized ours were the same way.
You go to extreme measures to break in your pointe shoes
Ah, pointe shoes--the death of us all. You love pointe while you’re young and can’t do it. But as soon as you’re old enough and actually realize the living-Hades that pointe ballet is, you realize you were just in love with the idea of pointe ballet. However, you’ll go to extreme lengths to break those pointe shoes in so maybe, just maybe, they won’t hurt so bad. I’ve walked around on pointe at my house, trying to break them in, while taking a break here and there to take them off and beat them into oblivion against the bathroom counter to loosen them up—it didn’t work, and it was still living-Hades.
Bobby pins are a prized possession of yours
You know you’ll need them for your many rehearsals and performances to come, so you hoard them like they’re the last little piece of humanity on earth. But it’s so strange that the hundreds you’ve collected over the past few months just disappear right when you need them--every single one of them.
You brace yourself when you open your dance bag
I’ll keep this one short and sweet, only the smell of a dancer’s dance bag is definitely not sweet. It’s honestly a smell only the owner of the bag could love, or bear.
You can’t freestyle dance for the life of you
Yes, I dance all the time. Yes, I guess you could say I’m pretty good at it, but I can’t freestyle dance for the life of me because everything has to be perfect when I dance and I can’t handle the thought of not being in control of what I’m doing. So no, do not ask me to freestyle dance at prom, and don’t give me the “but you’re a dancer” excuse for me to go out there and embarrass myself. It’s not happening. Go away.
You sit in positions that other people cringe at
The flexibility that comes with being a long-time dancer is definitely a benefit. When I’m tired in class I just pull my legs up to my chest and lay my head on my knees and take a nap like that. I also typically just like to sit that way, and I’ve had many classmates give me very disturbed looks during class because of it. Judge me.
You remember dances better than you do anything else
That dance you learned when you were seven years old to a Mary-Kate and Ashley song? You remember it like the back of your hand. That sentence you read in your textbook seven times? Can’t remember it for the life of you.
You have a weird love/hate relationship with your feet
Dancer’s feet? They’re gross. I’ll be straight honest about that. They’re rough, there’s skin missing, and we have blisters all over. But to us, that means we have worked hard and we’re getting somewhere, and the fact that our feet are so immune to any type of feeling whatsoever makes it practically impossible for people to tickle your feet—don’t try to tickle my feet.
