I've tried a lot of sports during my adolescence. I've played soccer when my dad was the coach. I tried out softball for a few summers, even though I dreaded standing in left field for hours on end while I sweated my butt off in knee socks and a ridiculous heavy cotton-blend uniform. I played volleyball for a year during high school, just because the only friends I had did. I took horseback riding lessons when I was 9. Heck, I was even a cheerleader during 4th through 6th grade. But, none of these things ever stuck. No matter what, I always hated going to practice and any type of game gave me anxiety. At first, I thought my hatred for these things stemmed from a hatred of organized sports or physical activities in general. I was always chubby and extremely self conscious about it. Trying on uniforms, being the slowest during drills, and simply being hopelessly nonathletic made me uncomfortable to say the least. I was just about to admit defeat and accept that I simply wasn't cut out for any of it. But then, I found dance. And it became my favorite sport.

For the first time ever, it didn't matter that I wasn't skinny, that I couldn't run a mile, or that I needed a little extra time to learn certain skills. Because I was absolutely in love with dancing. The way I could express myself through movement was something totally new and exciting for me and I was determined to explore it. I first joined jazz class. And then ballet. And musical theater. And lyrical. And soon enough, I was dancing two or three nights a week for a few hours. I had found a place that I felt comfortable being myself. And there, I was able to grow not only physically, in my dance skills, but mentally and emotionally, too. The Sandra Kay Mesler Dance Studio was my home away from home for 5 amazing years. My teachers were dance instructors as well as mentors and my peers became great friends and amazing supporters. I couldn't have asked for a better dance family.

In addition to all of this, never before had I felt more confident about my body or acted so open with my insecurities. I could create beautiful movements too, even if I couldn't (and still can't) do a triple pirouette. I was still valued. My strengths were highlighted while I worked on my weaknesses. And my peers didn't judge me. Sure, I was probably the least experienced of my class, which was filled with girls who had been dancing since age 5. And I had trouble with every single piece of choreography. But I never let this be an excuse. I just worked that much harder. I put 110% of myself into it. And I didn't let myself become self-conscious anymore because it broke my heart to be. The thought of letting anything hold me back from dancing made me so incredibly sad that I couldn't bear to quit, even for my struggling body image issues. Even if I was the worst dancer in the world, I would still do it. Because I feel that I have to do it.

I also realize that while I praise the self-confidence that my dance experience gave me, the dance community often is criticized for body shaming. But I'm here to tell you that these studios are just doing it wrong. Sure, I was pushed to do my best - to grow stronger and work harder each class. But that's not all that mattered. Spreading the joy of dance meant more to us than being perfect. There are places out there that understand the importance of teaching self-love and confidence to the girls and boys at their studios. You just have to find them. I'm so glad that I did.