The lights brighten, blinding me. The hundreds of faces in front of me become a blur. I become indifferent to roar of clapping and shouting. Suddenly, the music blares and my body is instantly put into motion. Three minutes pass by in what seems like a matter of seconds and before I know it, I’m standing in the wings, out of breath, excitement pumping through my veins.
Dance; to move rhythmically to music, typically following a set sequence of steps. But to me, dance is so much more than a sequence of steps. I crave dancing for a crowd and feeling the adrenaline rush that accompanies it. I eagerly await attending the studio after a stressful day of classes. After a long day filled with the pressures of school, the studio is truly the only place I want to be. I yearn the feeling of mastering a step and watching a piece of choreography come alive as I move through it.
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Anything I’m feeling, I can put into my dancing, whether it’s victory or frustration. For me, a bad day at school can be easily transformed into a good one if I have a productive day at the studio. After spending seven hours at a place exploding with rocky friendships, drama and gossip, dancing is the ultimate release. My fellow dancers and instructors are like a second family to me, and the studio is like a second home. Some days, I spend more time at the studio than I do at home. While I’m there, I’m not thinking about the tests I have the next day, or if there’s a party that weekend. I’m in the moment, enjoying every second of it, a feeling that I don’t think I ever could or will get from anything