what | if (continued)

what | if

I retired four years ago – and still find myself needing to make dance fit into my life. I can’t exist without moving and have come across many people that thrive once they find an environment they can move freely in. I’ve also come across people who connect to what we do at wear|haus because they’ve found a piece of themselves they’ve left behind. Lots of former, retired and recreational dancers show up and are reminded of something they felt when they used to dance... and it begs the question- why is it so hard to find these spaces as we get older? Student Allison Kelley and I have been exploring the question: Why do we give up on the idea of dancing?

Jess: What was your experience dancing when younger versus as you started getting older. Did anything change about the expectations you had or others had for you?

Allison: Dance was really joyful and made me feel good about myself in the beginning. I stood out and was elevated to a competition team. I loved being a company member and everything that went with it. My dance studio suddenly closed when I was 12 and it was devastating. I didn't like the new company I joined. I was placed in a group with older girls and everyone was so much better than me. A friend I followed to the new company was improving at a much faster rate than I was. For the first time, I felt like I wasn't a good dancer and really started to compare myself to others. My body was changing, I gained weight over the summer before I joined the new company and suddenly dance wasn't as joyful and left me feeling insecure and bad about myself. I wanted to be praised again or at the very least not seen as the worst dancer. I started losing a lot of weight, used critical self-talk for motivation and fretted about what this meant for my future, my dreams, the career I planned on having. Gradually, I improved a lot. That along with the weight loss garnered me more praise, better placements in dances, more awards, more confidence. To maintain this weight loss and praise, an exhausting cycle of disordered eating, overexertion and perfectionism was born. My new normal was happy+thin+talented and miserable+exhausted+critical all at once. So for the rest of my dance "career" it was a mixture of highs and lows, joy and sadness. I equated all this with dance and so it was a relief and a disappointment to leave it all behind.

Jess: You had said you were disappointed in yourself for not realizing your dream…do you still feel that way or can you commend your 18 year old self for working hard and stepping away from something that wasn’t serving you in the moment?

Allison: I'll always be disappointed. It's hard to walk away from a dream or to admit to yourself that you aren't good enough. When I see a show now, I'll think to myself "I think I could've done it but I'll never know because I didn't try." There is some regret but when I consider how my life turned out, I think it was the best choice considering my issues. I had a lot of healing to do which I'm not sure would've been possible if I continued with dance/performance. While it's still mixed feelings, yes, I can commend myself for taking a pragmatic approach that ultimately served me well.

Jess: So with all the hurt, rejection and pressures you faced – why is it that you had this dream to dance?

Allison: It was my life and my identity. Being on stage was everything. Even though it was mixed with the hurt, in the moment it's the most joyful, cathartic thing you'll ever experience. It's like your quote says "single fleeting moment when you feel alive." A dance is fleeting, typically 2.5 minutes. A dance career probably has the shortest lifespan of all careers. Because it's short, it's special, it's rare, it's a gift your body won't always be able to provide. There is nothing else like it.

Jess: I can say with certainty, that I don’t think everyone was meant to make a career out of their childhood dream or hobby…but I also don’t believe we have to make our dreams our whole entire lives OR give up on dreams just because they don’t become all of who we are. By that I mean, we should continue to evolve and keep the things that fill us somewhere among us. We should still treat dance and our dance family as a pivotal part of who we are, our routine, and our livelihood. The women who I see showing up to our workout classes feel a familiar joy/release/catharsis from the work we do in our space. I can see that making it a priority in their own way is giving them small pieces of purpose and connection that I think we otherwise lose out on when we don’t prioritize our needs. On that idea… how do you think people will relate to this topic? If someone is not a dancer, why would or should they care about it?

Allison: I think the bigger theme here is about letting go of dreams. I'd like to think everyone has some sort of dream or idea of what they could be when they're growing up. When you're young, you have a lifetime of possibility in front of you. It affords you the opportunity to dream and indulge in possibilities that aren't commonplace. Most of us don't realize all our dreams and that's OK. It's important to have dreams but it's also very important to mourn the loss of a dream once you've made the decision to take another path. Having appreciation for the dream or the former life is imperative. Examining the good things you have in your present life, expressing gratitude and accepting the path you're on all help with mourning the loss. I don't think the goal is to completely get over it. It's OK to still be sad that a dream didn't work out or feel disappointed or wonder "What if?" The important thing is to not run away from something that gives you joy, even if that something (dance for me) takes a different form and doesn't match what the initial aspiration was.

Jess: I’m fortunate enough to work in a space where I see clients picking up these pieces they’ve left behind every day. Movement unlocks something in a lot of us – it gives us permission to move freely, flail with confidence, be silly, let go of judgement and just be. Perhaps it can be a start of healing journey and give us all space to examine what we’ve let go of, find appreciation for where we’ve ended up & continually take space to indulge.