The Recital

The sun flooded through the blinds as I glared at my alarm clock. Today was the day: the recital. The recital was an event where my entire dance studio performed the numbers we had been working at tirelessly for the whole year. I pulled myself out of bed and immediately began searching for bobby pins, makeup and dance shoes. The smell of hairspray quickly consumed the room as I finished getting ready for the big day. My phone rang as my friend Taryn glided in the drive way to pick me up.

Taryn had been dancing much longer than I had, and was better at controlling her nerves and staying confident on stage. My heart sped up as I realized the time was almost here. I cannot forget, I cannot mess up, I told myself. Although I knew these dances like the back of my hand, shadows of doubt creeped in. I brushed the thoughts away, grabbed my bag, and headed out the door.

Taryn consoled me as we drove along the high way, attempting to ease my nerves. I smiled, trying to listen to her wise words. The excitement and nerves slowly faded as I gazed out the window at the green trees. I tried to focus my eyes on them, but instead watched them fade into thick green blurs. We drove for another half hour until the greenery turned into buildings.

The walk to the building felt like an eternity. I watched the ground pass my feet like I did the trees through the window. Taryn sped ahead of me, eager to walk through the doors and begin the day. I ran behind her, dragging my suitcase.

I found a corner and dropped my suitcase on the wood floor. I shuffled through my duffle bag and pulled out my tan jazz shoes. Taryn called my name from across the room.

“Want to run through the jazz number?” asked Taryn, phone in hand.

“Yes, I was just about to!” I said, slipping on my shoes and pushing my bags to the side. I breathed in, smelling the aromas of makeup and perfume, and let myself go.

I felt much better after practicing. I knew I was capable, I just could not allow my nerves and doubts to psych me out. My team and I added our final touches to our hair, costume and makeup and headed out the door to the backstage entrance.

Right then, the announcer called out our number. I walked onto the stage with my group, feeling the marley flooring under my feet and the spotlight on my face. Suddenly, my doubts flooded in and my mind went blank.

I’m going to forget it, I said to myself. I don’t know it, I don’t know where my spot is, I don’t remember it.

Before I knew it, the music began. Luckily, I was able to perform the first few moves, my eyes glancing to the people next to me in hopes of being reminded.

Then, I forgot. What lasted for a second felt like an eternity. The lights shone brightly as others turned one way and I turned a different one.

Then, all within a second, I realized I am the only thing holding me back. I tried with all I had push my doubts and fears away.

I know this dance, I said to myself, as it all came back to me in a heartbeat. I welcomed the bright lights on my face and smiled, remembering to point my toes and stretch my legs. The music faded, and the audience’s cheers consumed me. United, the team and I walked off the stage and hugged.

It was then when I realized, nobody cares about my mistakes as much as I do. In the dressing room, when nobody was watching and I was confident, I was able to perform the dance effortlessly. Only when I second guess myself is when mistakes occur. I decided to go through the rest of the day with a different mindset.

I know what I am doing. I got this, I told myself as the next dance started.