Ahhhhh, the world of competitive dance. I can literally smell it. The overwhelming scent of hairspray and body glitter is one that I may never forget. Not many people can say that, and even though I’m not sure it’s necessarily something to be proud of, I do desperately miss that smell. My days in competitive dance were some of the happiest of my whole life, and let me tell you, there were a lot of them.
I’ve been dancing since for as long as I can remember. I took my first dance class when I was 6 years old with my best friend, Megan. We would tumble and tap with Miss Myrna, and at the end of class we got a treat, which was always my favorite part. Eventually, I stopped caring so much about the candy and actually just wanted to dance. I started competing around the age of 8 and finished up my 11th and final year in the 2020-2021 season.
Not many people know about competitive dance, which is a shame. Once you’re in it, you love it. Even if my dad won’t admit to being a dance dad, he says that the 3 minutes I’m up on that stage are the most nerve-racking 3 minutes of his life. He’s in it to win it and he’s definitely not alone in that. Dance moms are real. And often mean. Competitive dance is competitive. No one’s there to mess around, it makes the energy in the air so exciting.
I also would have to agree with my dad when he says the 3 minutes I’m on stage are the most nerve-racking 3 minutes of his life. The special thing about dance is that you only get one shot. 3 minutes is literally all you get, and if you mess it up, there’s no second chance. It’s really all or nothing. And even if you do the best you can do, your placement is in the hands of 4 people’s opinions. Although the judges are obviously very well experienced, they may just not like the style of your dance or the costume you’re wearing and you just have to deal with that. Like I said, ANXIETY.
Dance isn’t all about competing, however. That’s not even the main reason I have such a love for dance. Although it is fun to win, the studio I danced at literally became a home and for that, dance has never been just a trophy to me. I looked forward to going to the studio, even if it was my 5th time being there that week. The studio owners always made it clear that the studio was a safe space, and it was and continues to be for not only me, but so many other dancers that have gone through that place. That’s what dance does. It is a competitive sport, it is time-consuming, it does cause the typical “blood, sweat, and tears,” but because of that, you’re basically forced to be family with the people you’re experiencing that with. Most of the core memories in my life have been with my dance family, and they aren’t when we won national titles. It’s when we got to go to Disney World! And compete all across the country! Literally watching each other grow up. That’s why the world of competitive dance is so special. The bonds it creates are truly like no other. It’s definitely not a universal experience to know the world of competitive dance, but I feel lucky to have been a part of the few that can call it home.