the dance floor doesn't judge (but i do)
dancing through doubt and desire and chasing the echoes of younger me
Whenever I do my chores, I always have a YouTube video running in the background. It’s like my white noise and somehow makes me more productive. And one particular day, I was watching one of Luna Montana’s Nutcracker vlogs, and as I always do with every other dance vlog from a dancer, it led me to reflect on my own dancing journey.
I’ve been dancing as far as I can remember. I remember being put in pink tutus, hair in tight buns and flower crowns. This was my very early memory, I was in ballet flats, with silky red robes, waiting backstage with our parents. I was with my cousins, dressed as the garden creatures for the Cinderella ballet production.
But like every other extracurricular activity I was put on, I remember being in choir and learning instruments too, but spoiler alert, it never stuck through. However, dance did.
With every opportunity that was presented, I joined dance clubs, I did performances across cities, and during school events. When school ended and the summer term started, I was put in summer dance classes. Dance is me, I embodied dance and dance embodied me. When you ask my friends and family, most of them would say that I’m a “good” dancer.
However, in the unfortunate year of 2013, I was asked to stop as it seems to have been interfering with my academics. I personally didn’t think it did, but considering how academically-centred Filipino culture is and oftentimes aren’t really forgiving when it comes to creatives. Luckily though, within a year of school, I managed to join the dance club, as long as I kept it a secret. And with it happening after school, I had to make up an excuse as to why, I thought it was a good idea to say I’m in a football club and also join it too. So now I’m juggling both dance and football after school.
It’s a funny memory to look back, but why the hell did I do that? I could’ve just lied, but hey, at least, when I lie. I back it up with truths! LOL!
Eventually, I think everyone knew that I was back to dancing again and by the summer of that year, I went to a summer dance class again.
By 2016, I moved to England. It was one of the most eventful and life-transforming moments in my life. I was fourteen, the most transformative years of my life, in a new environment and surrounded by people who sounded like my favourite boyband, One Direction. (I was obsessed, that’s another topic for another time.)
For some reason, this had pushed me back like a turtle reverting to its shell. I can’t blame myself, although sometimes I do, for that as I was in a completely different environment. I remember being excited when the extracurricular activities were brought out at the hall, stalls of different types of things to do and I knew I had my eyes on one thing: dance.
I was with a friend, she was helping me look for it and I spotted it, in a crowd of teenagers like me. There, the dance club was shiny and glowing in its glory, beckoning me to come over. But as soon as I approached them, my confidence somehow crumbled to the ground and I couldn’t speak, I don’t exactly remember what happened with the interaction but in the end, I didn’t end up joining.
I felt defeated.
Fret not, because two years later, I have rekindled with dance again. All the biggest thanks to K-Pop and to my friend who introduced me to it.
I started self-teaching myself from dance tutorials on YouTube to then recording myself and posting it on my Instagram profile. It took a lot of courage and confidence within me because I knew people from school would see it and one thing about secondary school: it’s brutal. Luckily, I’ve surrounded myself with a good and supportive group of friends. Not once did I feel ridiculed doing it.
So I kept teaching myself and learning and posting more.
And with the rise of TikTok in 2019 and its boom during the pandemic, we all know by now what a “TikTok dance” is. That’s all I’ve been doing ever since, just continuously learning and teaching myself new dances and sharing them with everyone else. And it’s one of the things that makes me really, really happy.
But I’m also not going to sit here and say that it doesn’t give me some doubts, some insecurities.
Last year, I managed to earn the certificate of being a dance teacher and I loved it so much but I had to pause it for reasons I don’t feel comfortable yet sharing. And the thought of coming back to it makes it feel daunting. Scrolling through LinkedIn and IndeedJobs, looking for dance teachers with degrees in dance and experience in varied dance styles. I sit there in silence, sometimes hoping to turn back in time and choosing to seriously pursue this “hobby” instead.
I remember in secondary school, if you learn dance, you learn everything. Sometimes I wish I didn’t just stick to Hip-hop or street dance. I wish I explored other dance styles. I sometimes wish I was flexible in some other ways, and sometimes wish I could pop and lock like others.
One of my favourite dancers amongst all the other dancers is Tate McRae. She’s an example of who I aim to be, an artist who blends modern dance with other elements, especially contemporary and urban dance. I wish I could be fluid and do splits while also being strong and powerful with big movements.
It’s true when they say that every person’s biggest critic is themselves. No matter the achievements I have or how far I’ve gotten in my dancing journey, there will always be that one little voice in my head that will tell me that I will never be good enough.
I will never be as good as Tate McRae, or Luna Montana, or Hannah Balanay or Jordan Grace.
But I guess, there’s no one who will be just as good as me. (Please, let me be delulu for a minute.)