“Let us welcome to the stage Park Hill South.” I take a deep breath, smile, and begin to walk on stage repeating the words in my head, “left, right, left, right” in my head so I stay on beat with the rest of my team. As I get to my spot on the floor, nerves and excitement course through my veins. “Ladies your music is on.” I hear the music begin to fill the room, and I exude a sense of pride to be on that stage, but more importantly, I feel unbelievably confident. And in that moment I began to remember a time in my life when I never thought that would be possible. A time where I didn't feel comfortable in my own skin, let alone confident.

It was July of 2015, and I stood backstage waiting to perform my solo “Be Wild.” I always dreaded walking on stage alone and having the focus be solely on me. I had gone through this process several times throughout the year, but it never seemed to get easier. This time was different, though, I was about to dance in front of a crowd that was bigger than I was used to. Maybe it was the nerves of being on stage by myself or my lack of self-confidence that made me unable to walk on stage. I felt overwhelmed to the point where I stumbled into the audience and told my mom that I felt so sick I wasn't able to perform. That wasn’t a complete lie either, my stomach felt like it had been flipped inside out.

She pulled me outside and tried to reassure me that I was okay. “Just take a deep breath, and you will feel better.” I tried to calm myself down, but all I could do was imagine myself frozen on stage with the eyes of hundreds of people focused on me. “I don’t think I can do this,” I confessed to my mom. “Maybe I should just not perform.” I tried to convince her to let me skip my dance and be done with everything, but she refused. “You haven't come all this way and practiced this much to quit.” I wish I could say her words reassured me, but I still wanted to leave and never perform my solo. I made one last feeble attempt to get myself out of the situation, but I was unsuccessful. I walked back inside and made my way backstage. “You're up next,” the worker told me. I felt my legs carry me up the stairs and onto the stage even though it was the last thing I wanted.

You would probably assume that I overcame my fear and executed my dance flawlessly all in that one day. That would have been too easy. But experiences, conversations, and a little bit of soul searching over the next 6 years transformed me into who I am today. Someone who learned you can always grow from your own mistakes. Someone who finally accepted you can’t expect perfection from an imperfect human, especially when it’s yourself. And when I look back on that specific day, I don’t dwell on the anxiety, nerves, or stomachache I felt, because I remind myself without the person I used to be, I would have never become the person I am now. And that’s a person who never thinks about quitting before they've even started.

© Allison. All rights reserved. If you are interested in quoting this story, contact the national team and we can put you in touch with the author’s teacher.