The Big Explanation About Dance
Sunday, January 22nd, 2012I don’t owe anyone an explanation. It’s not really anyone’s business, honestly. But I’m giving one anyway because there are so many questions and I’m tired of giving the same speech, and I’m actually not bitter about having to explain it, just ready to move on with my life and stop poking that tired crab in the sand with a stick.
I gave up dancing. *We* gave up dancing. No, this does not mean you will never see us on a dance floor again, it just means that you will rarely see me out because it is no longer a priority in our lives. BUT WHY?! YOU’RE SO AMAZING! WHY WOULDN’T YOU WANT TO BE ON THE DANCE FLOOR CONSTANTLY?! YOU GUYS WERE HEADED FOR THE TOP– WHY ARE YOU QUITTING?! OMFG!
Look. To a non-dancer, this makes a lot of sense- it grew old, we have moved on. To other dancers, our decision at this point in the game is unheard of because dancers are in love with the dance floor. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s not a lifestyle we are willing to subject our children and marriage to any longer.
There aren’t a lot of healthy dance couples in the world of West Coast Swing. That doesn’t mean that healthy, happy couples don’t exist… it just means that from what I’ve seen, they are few and far between- and honestly, I can easily count on one hand the number of happily married couples who exist in the dance world. The demographics are made up vastly of single folks, those running away from stressful work and relationships, careerists who started as young kids and can’t imagine a life doing anything different. There are, of course, the folks who just enjoy it recreationally, but honestly, I have met few of those. Probably 75% that I have met are searching for a partner of sorts, get caught up in the excitement and glamour of competition and temporary fame, and they end up living convention to convention, spending all their money on monthly plane tickets and event passes, and coming home at the end of the weekend of staying up all night long dancing utterly exhausted, exhilarated, and completely distracted from work and life outside of dance. Another 20% Are probably the dance instructors who, like myself, found their way to quick, temporary fame possibilities while knowing full well that time as a dance teacher is generally very limited and the “fame” is quickly fleeting the moment you stop being able to afford the monthly competitions or grow weary of rubbing elbows. It’s not a life that’s easy to maintain, and almost all of us fall short of our true internal goals because, well, they’re unrealistic. Almost none of us have the true, raw talent that takes the minimum of a decade or two to develop. Too many of us get started too “old” in our 20s or so to make it all that far. The other 5%… well, I guess those would be the folks with zero ulterior motive other than the joy of dancing, and few of them regularly attend conventions and none of them make it the focus of their life except for during those moments on the floor. Most of us have far too obsessive of personalities to leave dance at the venue. It’s a sport that attracts not the faint of heart. We commit fully when when start learning those first patterns.
It’s not a bad life for people who really love it. I want to make that much clear. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with making the choice to focus on it, nor do I think it’s unhealthy for some people. For me, though, it’s not conducive to a happy life. It’s far too stressful. I hate competing. I’m surprisingly shy about performing. I get anxiety when a hundred people pat me on the back and hug me and tell me how I awesome I am because I’m simply not that awesome. Whatever it was- it was just a short moment on the dance floor during which the sun shone out of my ass. It’s a teensy moment that will never be repeated. I am proud of those accomplishments, but the bliss quickly turns to anxiety focused on the fact that I must, once again, pull off a great moment if I am going to maintain that reputation in the here and now. It’s all far too temporary for me to feel true fulfillment.
But there is plenty in my life that is so much bigger and more fulfilling than that world. The parts of my life that take the back burner while my head is far too focused on things that really don’t matter all that much. My marriage, my beautiful daughters, the fact that I have the brains to do something more with my life that excites me and makes me feel like I can make a positive difference. You know, like fighting for justice and all that cheesy stuff that more of us dream about than we want to admit. I am that person. I am unashamed.
I cannot tell you how how many of my dance acquaintances have looked at my kids and said, “I don’t know how you do it. I don’t think I want to have kids.” I’ve always found this a big of a biting comment, and I have always felt sad for those who have uttered it. Is it that they don’t see themselves with kids, or that they are afraid to see themselves with kids because they fear that they will never find a committed partner? Or perhaps they worry they’re getting too old to start a family, or maybe they’re unsure how they could split their commitment between dance and family? There is nothing more sad to me than watching some of these people get into relationships with someone who says they don’t want a family or a true commitment. They fail to fight for the fact that they do indeed want a marriage, a family, and ultimately a life outside of the short world of dance.
Because in the end, there is not a soul on the face of the planet who would tell you that they regret the decision to have kids. Kids are not the end: they are the true beginning. They are that one thing you can create that you love unconditionally. There is never a convenient time to have them, but every moment with them is nothing but a richness and an enhancement to one’s life. And a solid, happy marriage? It’s the best thing ever. Period. I have the most amazing family, and I am so fulfilled that there is no reason I should choose a distraction like dance over them- I’ve done it, it wasn’t worth it.
To the people who have looked at my life and commented on how the hell I’ve managed to raise kids, I suppose if I could say anything in rebuttal it would be that hey, at least I wake up every single day knowing that I will never regret my decision to have kids. On the other hand, there are too many people wishing secretly that they could have a family but have chosen a life without them. I would never want to be that person. Not a single parent regrets having kids, and I am glad I can say I’m one of them.
We quit dance because we were losing sight as a couple and as a family. We, too, were so wrapped up in the glitz and excitement that we spent all our extra money on weekends of frustrating, damaging convention life. We watched our kids’ little faces sink in disappointment when, at least twice a week, we told them the babysitter was coming for the evening while their daddy and I left to teach and dance until the wee hours of the morning. We fell into a lifestyle of extreme exhaustion from the manic high of dance adrenaline, over-stimulation, and bizarre sleep schedules. Our marriage suffered from years of neglect because our main focal point was an outside activity. At least 75% of our fights centered around dance. Jealousy. Choreography. Competition. The amount of distraction seen constantly in our relationship was so extreme that it’s a true miracle we are still a couple.
My mental health? Well, try being on bedrest for a month before birth and recovering after birth with a husband who leaves you every week rain or shine because he MUST GO DANCING lest he turn into an complete asshole until the following week’s dance opportunity. Any new mom would lose it. I promise. A huge part of my mental health issues- the depression, the mania, the supposed bipolar disorder have been a direct result of dance being an unhealthy part of my life. It’s not James’ fault. It’s both of ours. We allowed something ridiculous take over. We escaped, though, and we are recovering.
In the last few months we have made major changes: we realized that there are more important parts of our life than dance, and we mutually and separately made the realization and decision that it’s just not that important to us anymore. Both James and I want to focus on our family, careers, and most importantly, each other. This decision is what prompted us to no longer teach or run a large dance event every Friday night. It is also the decision that gave me the courage to go back to school, apply for jobs that interest me, and get myself on a schedule that includes going to bed and waking up at at decent time. This is no small feat for a dancer. We have picked up on hobbies and activities that used to be more important to us than dancing, and our girls have enjoyed being a part of our life rather than sitting at home waiting for us to be done with our dance commitments.
This has been a wonderful change. I am actually feeling happy. I am off medication, I have been stable for the first time in three years. I would apologize to the dancers who keep asking me when I’m coming back, to the people have continually asked me for dance lessons, and to my friends who have written me off because I haven’t stepped foot in a ballroom in over a month… except that I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry that I’ve made this decision because for the first time in the decade that dance has run my life, I see a future for myself outside of uncomfortable strappy dance shoes, arthritic aches and pains in my feet, and constantly feeling the pressure to perform. Leaving the dance scene has given me the chance to focus on the people I care about and the career I am excited to pursue.
I don’t owe anyone an explanation, but there it is. I left dance, and I am glad I did. It’s a shame that most people who were my friends haven’t bothered to call, but you know what? That’s fine. There are more important people and activities in my life that have kept me far too busy to dwell on the crappy things. It is a decision, like having kids, that I will never regret.
Current Mood:
Cool
Bored
Happy