Anybody that has known me for a majority of my life knows that I have been a dancer from the second I learned how to walk. Those toddler dance classes where I shuffled around in my shiny tap shoes went on to lead to nighttime contemporary classes that had me driving home so exhausted that I collapsed on my bed without attempting to contemplate my senior yearbook quote. I have spent many years -- and many, many pairs of dance shoes -- on the floors of my dance studio, growing up alongside my fellow students, friends, and teachers.

So today, I'm sitting here reflecting on how dancing has positively impacted my life.

I've learned a lot of things throughout my years of dancing. I've learned that nothing is more important than the number eight. I've learned that your teachers weren't just nagging you when they told you that you couldn't wear your pretty tap shoes outside -- they were right about the damage the cement caused.

I've learned neat little tricks for recital night, ranging from the right blend of stage makeup to make your face glow without looking like a botched YouTube tutorial to how to use bobby pins and pieces of tape to repair ripped seams in a pinch. I learned what it felt like to have your kneecaps slam into the wood floor when you botched a move...time and time again.

women's white floral sweetheart neckline dress dancing Photo by Kevin Lee on Unsplash

I've felt the euphoria of nailing a move you thought you couldn't do and the warm wave of embarrassment when you flubbed something in front of your entire class. There are several songs that I can't hear on the radio anymore without my muscles itching to burst into the movements they'd trained for years ago and have never really forgotten.

I've worked at a dance store and sized shoes for two-year old ballerinas and sixty-year old salsa dancers. I can recite the barcode for Twylas in my sleep and you don't even have to tell me what dance studio you're in for me to know that a Capezio EJ42 is the shoe that's required for your jazz class.

Dancing has been ingrained in me for as long as I can remember, and because of that, I am so very grateful.

The most important lesson that I ever took away from my fifteen-plus years in a studio was that, while you are working with a class of other people, perseverance within yourself is what will carry you the farthest. I have had many moments where I've felt myself melting of embarrassment because I thought I couldn't do something right, even when it was something so small and insignificant that I'm certain my peers never picked up on it.

When my teachers would politely correct something for me and I felt someone in the back of the room paying attention, I wanted nothing more than the scuffed floor to open up and swallow me whole. I thought that I was letting everyone down by not doing something right -- and because I was so nervous about letting them all down, I couldn't get out of my own head, and I kept screwing up. It was a cycle of mortification that I was stuck in, at war with my own thoughts and wanting to look good in front of other people.

woman in black long sleeve shirt and black shorts standing on brown wooden floor during daytime Photo by Jeffery Erhunse on Unsplash

But then one day I decided that I was going to attempt to get through one single class without focusing on what other people were looking at, and I decided to focus on myself and making sure that I got the moves down for our upcoming performance. And so I did. For that entire hour, I didn't focus on anything other than myself and the counts in my head, and my own reflection in the mirror as we practiced time and time again.

And by the end of that class, while I was still by no means perfect, I felt much better about my dancing and my confidence in myself. I learned that always worrying about how other people are viewing you -- even when it comes to a group event like a dance performance -- doesn't always do you much good, and focusing on how to best improve yourself is the surest way to success for each individual.

Something else that dance taught me was just about perseverance in general. Like I said, I had danced for many years of my life -- classes every single week during the school year (and I wasn't even one of the girls that did summer classes as well). As I got older, my schedule became more and more packed. I wasn't able to come home from an exhausting day of second grade and have a snack and take a nap before my ballet class.

Come senior year, I was getting out of class, going to club meetings, running to my dance team practice at my high school, and then going right to my dance studio from there. Dance days became my most exhausting days, because I left my house as the sun was rising and didn't come back until around dinnertime, exhausted and starving and sweaty, and then I had hours of homework and studying and yearbook work waiting for me.

person in white ballet shoes Photo by Nihal Demirci Erenay on Unsplash

So yes, as much as I love dancing, I was still a teenager.

There were days -- rainy, snowy, and even plain sunny -- where I could barely muster the energy to go to my dance class, let alone help teach some of the younger girls as a student assistant. Sometimes I was tired and just wanted to nap and forget about my responsibilities for awhile, but I didn't. I kept pushing, even when my internal energy meter had long since hit empty.

I showed up, I slipped on those shoes, and I danced with every fiber of my being until it was time to go home and collapse into my bed. Dancing taught me about commitment and persevering even when you really, really didn't feel like doing so -- and that has carried over to many other aspects of my life.

Another aspect of dancing that had such a positive impact on my growth and childhood was the sense of family within my studio. I have known some of these girls since I was five years old and we were all in brightly colored tutus, tugging at the laces of our ballet slippers and being too busy looking at our sparkly costumes in the studio mirror to actually pay attention to what our teacher was saying.

And then, all of a sudden (or so it seemed), we were legal adults stretching our limbs at the barre and gossiping about drama from a neighboring town while we warmed up for our class. We went to school with each other, danced along side each other, grew up at the same time, went to the same parties and sweet sixteens, and even ran in the same circles.

Some of the people -- and the teachers -- that I have met throughout my years in the studio have formed lasting friendships and those people have undoubtedly earned my utmost respect.

ballerina dancing near white concrete building during daytime Photo by Daria Rom on Unsplash

So, that's just a brief reflection on how dancing has positively impacted my life. I'm incredibly grateful for all of the years I had at my studio with my teachers and friends, and for everything those years taught me about hard work and perseverance (and doing the perfect ballerina bun).

I can't imagine what my life would have been like if I had never been a dancer, and I don't even want to try to think about it. I'll forever be grateful for my fifteen years of bruises, good times, and always hearing "run it through one more time."