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My whole life I’ve felt I’ve been in the middle ground. Surrounded by the chaos on all sides, and I remain stuck over which one where I belong. I’ve felt a passion to do so many things I feel I am a slab of butter wiped to thin on a piece of bread. I wish to touch all the holes, to melt into the crevices of a Belgian waffle, and absorb every last bit of sticky syrup that is poured onto me. But most of the time my waffle becomes drenched in overwhelming amounts-or dry from being scared to dip the sweet flesh in too far.

I danced as a kid along with gymnastics. But when the hours became too much, I knew I had to choose one, and so I stopped dance, and didn't return to it til five years later. In the long break, I attempted other sports that I worked hard in. Lacrosse, Tennis, I even tried some acting for fun . But eventually, my fire for these activities always died. The turf field felt like torture and hitting a ball back and forth left me bored. And so in eighth grade, I decided to try and find the movement of dance again. And low and behold. I fell right back in love. 

And for once. The love did not die out. It grew with each new dance studio I stepped into, with each new combo I learned, with each new dance teacher I fell in love with. It grew. 

Dance is a funny thing because the more I do it. Even if it is multiple hours a day. I want more, more, and more. Even if I am pushing myself way beyond my limits. I convince myself I am not doing enough. 

So I take more classes. I put work in with improv. And even when I don’t see the changes in the mirror in front of me, or in the video I watch after. It seems when I enter the realm of performing, not to show, but to dive into myself-that is when I see the work: break, shatter, and explode into a million pieces of why I do this thing called dance. 

Because honestly-I’ve sacrificed a lot for dance. Aspects of my mental health that cause me to constantly compare myself and my body to others, time that could have been spent at family events or with friends, physical pain that my body may never recover from, and the constant feeling of never being enough. Sometimes I look at others with their cleats or gymnastics leotards and wonder if I should have just stuck to the grass field instead. 

But yet-I come back to it again and again for these exact reasons. 

To show I love myself.

To make memories of movement and connections of backstage secrets.

To show gratitude to my body for the amazing things it can do. 

To constantly know that perfection is never the end answer, but growth is.

To know that there will never be an end.

And with each dance studio I know, there is a beginning of a story to be told.

So yes I dance because the feeling I get when I am performing is like no other. I dance because the community of dancers is something that can never be replicated. I dance to pour out the emotions I cannot speak through words. To enter into my imaginary world of other voices and characters. To be in stories. To create stories. 

But I think I really dance because it’s the only space where I feel like being in the middle is my greatest strength. Because in dance-when you attempt to join a side that is not your own, you blend into the back, and the dark thoughts of not being enough take over. 

So I remain in the middle, drawing on the many colors of my life that painted, and continue to paint the constantly evolving path of the exact reason exact reason why I show up to the dance studio each and every day.