No, I did not grow up dancing

I didn't grow up taking jazz or ballet. (That's a lie, I quit ballet unexpectedly at age 5 because there was a boy in my class and I thought that was gross.) I never did a recital or competition, I never tied my hair into a tight bun, or wore age-inappropriate makeup, or went to a fancy school with the best training.

Me going to ballet class days before my dramatic exit from the dance world.

Part of this was because my mom didn't have the money or time to put me in these classes, and part of it was also because there was something about these forms that everyone else was doing that seemed boring and uneventful. I always loved dancing, but not in the way everyone else around me loved it. I loved rap music, and R&B, but it wasn't considered "normal" for a little girl to know and get down to all the lyrics of a Ludacris song.

Because of this, I only really dedicated myself to dance when I was in the center of a hype circle at school dances or performing for the showcase at the end of the occasional YMCA summer camp. I resorted to the practical.

If you would have asked my 8 year old self what she wanted to be when she grew up, you would have gotten one simple answer, " a corporate lawyer." While other kids were focused on what was the cool, magical thing to be, I was always aware of reality.

At 8 years old, I possessed a keen talent and dedication to arguing, getting my homework done as fast and efficiently as possible, and making money. Being a lawyer just made sense.

I was also very shy. I spent most of my time in class listening and observing. Teachers often did not even know who I was until a couple months into the school year because I was so quiet. It wasn't until we were assigned a presentation, or debate, that I came alive and transformed into this confident, outspoken girl that they just came to know.

There was always a part of me that felt like a strong fire was constantly burning inside, but didn't always make it out. It was almost as if everything was bottled up until an actual space was created for me to let it out and shine. Sometimes I felt like I was two completely different people inhabiting the same body. I was artistic, but organized, serious, but playful, shy in front of a couple people, but bursting with energy in front of a crowd.

When I got older, I began to channel this energy through musical theater and show choir. I got into the competitive theater program at my school, and at the same time, my mom was able to enroll me in a local theater company where I could take classes and perform in plays!

Despite being casted as villager #7 in my first four musicals, I was IN LOVE. I eventually grew and began to thrive in this environment, constantly performing, auditioning, and training. I was confident, happy, and had an amazing group of supportive, artistic friends. There was something about being on stage, transforming into someone else that gave me an incredible high.

I completely threw myself into this magical world for years, acting, dancing, and singing..until my practical side took over again.

Once my senior year of high school kicked in, so did the full reality of life. My struggles to get into the college I wanted to became very real. My auditions for two of the top schools in theater arts didn't make the cut. My theater teacher, the person who I was supposed to rely on for advice and motivation told me I was better off frying burgers than pursuing my dreams.

When I graduated high school and entered into my first year of college, I retreated back into my shell, my quiet side, all the while telling myself this story ( that so many of us do). You're not good enough, you need to do what is practical, you need to make money.

This story didn't bring me any good. I changed my major in school from Theater Arts to Politics, (two
areas that could not be more different). I fell into a deep depression, lost all my self-confidence, and gained a lot of weight. You know, all the amazing things that happen to you when you make the complete wrong decision. No one really knew me that well, so I also retreated to my shy self. It was almost like I lost my voice, and didn't know how to get it back, and all because I was listening to what other people told me was right, and what was socially "acceptable" to pursue! My fire was still there, I could feel it, but it DID NOT want to come out for this bullshit I was doing.

But I guess it was really waiting for me to take a dance class.
To be continued....

Full blog post at www.dancehallsandiego.com
-Johanna