During my senior year of high school I faced one big decision that seemed to tower above the rest: would I go to college for a degree in psychology, or would I try to get into a BFA program for dance? Ultimately, admissions decided for me: after auditioning for only 4 dance programs -all of which were extremely selective and extremely prestigious -and consequently being rejected from each, I was left without much choice other than to enroll as a psych major.

I know that a lot of high school aged dancers grapple with the idea of pursuing a career in dance. For some, who have been training in company affiliated pre-professional schools from an early age, the decision is fairly clear: they will audition upon completing training. For dancers who started later on in their adolescence, or who trained in smaller schools, there can be a lot of ambivalence.

Some of these dancers may choose to take a year after high school to audition for companies or freelance work, and go from there based on their success or difficulty with landing a job. Others may opt to continue their training in a conservatory-style or college program designed for young adult dancers to refine and hone their technique, and also prepare them to transition from student to professional.

Personally, college was not an option for me; it was an unspoken expectation. If I wanted to pursue dance, I would do it at a university where I could double major. I was told by too many people that I was "too smart to not go to college."

After being rejected from the programs that seemed like my only opportunity to continue dancing, I was initially disappointed. I went into college dissatisfied with myself, and angry at my lack of options.

I tried to incorporate dance into my schedule as much as I could. I took near-daily classes at Steps on Broadway, I joined my school's student ballet company, and I began to realize that going to college for something other than dance did not mean I was giving dance up.

Now, in my second year of school, I have come to understand that my own expectations of myself as a senior in high school were unreasonably high. As a late-comer to ballet, with minimal, albeit exceptional, training, I was already behind many other applicants.

Although I no longer am dreaming of making it big in the dance-world, I realized that I could set realistic goals for myself. Starting this spring, I am auditioning as a freelance dancer. I have no expectations of big jobs or even paid jobs. The point is that I am showing myself I still have the opportunity to try. It is taking back the decision that I felt forced into, and giving myself some say in it.

The world of professional dance is cutthroat, and for dancers going in without exposure to certain experiences and opportunities, it is that much harder to succeed. Recognizing my own limitations was a step towards accepting that even if I am not destined for a long professional career, I do not have to give up the idea of performing completely.

Whatever the outcome may be, I would be more regretful if I did not try my hardest, than I would be disappointed at trying and not succeeding. This path is not what I had imagined, but it is not giving up my dreams; it is simply realizing that there is no one way to follow this dream.