I started dancing when I was five years old arriving in a busy wooden-floored dance room full of girls skipping around. I wore bright pink and orange polka dot shorts to class for weeks until my mum knew I wanted to go to the classes. Early on everyone knew I was going to find it tough as I lacked in coordination and rhythm as I was not born a typical dancer. I believe early on in dancing you are judged whether you will make it or not. I went on to learn I naturally had exceptionally good turnout and a body that did have the capacity to train it hard and become better.
During Primary School, dance was just a club I went to each week and I had not found the passion for it as I was taking part in many different activities. I spent years in class always being put in the ‘crocodile’ or ‘spider’ corner of the room as my corner work was not good enough. Or I had parts in groups where I was put at the back behind taller individuals or large scenery to hide my lack of rhythm. I also started to compete in solos and was given the hand downs from others my age for costumes or given arm cuffs to cover up my bony untechnical port de bra. Early on, I struggled to believe that dancing was something I would be ‘good’ at no matter how much I enjoyed it.
I received my first medal, which was a first for a modern solo, at the Hastings Music Festival at thirteen years old. It was a massive achievement and one that helped grow my confidence massively. For years I had watched girls alongside me gaining medals or high results and I always thought it would not be me. At thirteen I changed dance school and had a teacher who was very motivating and gave me new choreography that suited my style of dancing. For the first time, I was entering a modern dance which I never thought I could as I was not particularly good at tricks. It was a Spanish style modern and I was dressed in a red all in one with a red flower in my hair. The class had a good turn out and I looked around expecting the regular winners to be stepping forward. When they announced I had won I remember feeling elated and looking at all the girls I had managed to beat and looking at the audience thinking I could do this. I remember going back to the changing room and my teacher's, fellow competitors parent's, and my family looked at me like I had achieved something.
'The story of becoming beautiful isn't about the ugly duckling becoming a swan; it is about the ugly duckling realising it was a swan all along.'
As the years went on, I challenged myself further and decided I wanted to take it seriously and give myself the best chance I could to be good at dancing. Secretly, thinking, do all girls dream one day they can dance? I changed dance school again and pushed myself to join any local productions I could to step up my ability. I took on further styles of dance and took up singing lessons again to give myself the best chance of getting parts. Life outside of the dance bubble was proving difficult with many different family worries. I believe this helped me grow further as a performer, learning to connect with music lyrics and hold onto dancing achievements as my own goals. As time went by, I started accepting lifts every weekday evening and weekend I could, to make sure I was rehearsing and practicing getting better. It felt as the unspoken dream I was carrying around ‘of becoming a dancer’ was one step closer every day.
'Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.' A quote that has been on my wall since I was a little girl.
When I discovered at Sixth Form that I had the chance of applying to a dance school and that it might be possible to do this as my own pathway I was elated. No one had ever sat me down before and said you could become a dancer, but I had heard of others around me auditioning. I went home and spent months searching for different dance schools on google and printing off application forms using my home printer. I remember looking at the requirements and thinking I did not have a chance, but I would try all the same. During that year I auditioned for Laban and got offered a place on their waiting list. I also auditioned at Urdang Dance Academy and got offered a place on their Foundation Course. I had opened this letter in the car on the way to a dance lesson and I was so excited, focusing at Sixth Form in math’s classes had now gone out the window. I went on to work in QDOS pantomime that year to earn some money to pay for the Foundation Course I wanted to start the following summer.
Moving to London and taking part in a central London competitive Dance Academy for a year was one of the hardest years of my life. The physical classes showed me how unfit I was - every day I would wake in pain and have to drag myself out of bed. The singing and acting classes showed me I had no understanding and needed to learn about musical theatre quickly. Daily classes were a reminder of how far behind I was compared to other girls my age. At Urdang, I always remember being one of the first people to arrive every morning and the last to leave in the evening, even though I would travel the furthest on the tube each day. It was inspiring to watch third years in their shows and to share a studio space with professionals that were at the top of their performing career. It was also great to be in central London to head to the theatre and start to understand how the theatre industry worked.
Throughout my time training I had always turned down invites to go out from friends back home or invites in London in the evening as I knew I would not have the energy. I would ensure all my money was spent on dance gear or tickets to watch shows to ensure I was up to date, and that every Birthday / Christmas presents were also related to dance. I continued to not see my other half at the time just so I could stay in London on the weekend in case I needed to be there ready for training.
I then auditioned again for many schools and was incredibly lucky to be accepted at many different dance schools including Performers, Millennium, Laban, The Centre, Body Works, and London Studio Centre on a Degree Program. I started out on my three-year course at London Studio Centre in North London to complete a BA (Hons) Degree. During classes, they continued to be terribly negative and I was constantly told in Jazz, Body Conditioning and Tap that my steps were not right or the phrase ‘No’ was stated. I had managed to get myself into the top set for Ballet however, I would step into class every day and be reminded that my teacher did not like me there. For example, I received daily morning reminders about my weight showing and then would be asked to demonstrate how not to do the exercise to the rest of the class. I would never let her make me cry as I always thought she would be pleased. I also ensured I never missed a class as I was never sure how I would find the strength to go to the next one if I missed one. I plugged away at what she wanted me to and after six months I gained her acceptance to let me off the bar to join in jumping with the rest of the class.
For the final year, I chose to go into the Musical Theatre strand and I am still pleased I made this decision instead of choosing jazz or ballet. I spent my final year at Dance College obsessed with calories and looking the best I could possibly look. Matthew Shaw had mentioned we should all be doing everything we could in the third year to make it which triggered my brain to think of my unspoken dream. I cut out carbohydrates to achieve the best possible look to my stomach and would train at the gym by running and lifting weights every other day. If I was hungry after a small number of meals each day, I would only allow myself to eat cereal before bed to kick the cravings I was having. I started attending tanning booths to make myself not look so pale-skinned. I was hoping to get comments that I looked ‘okay’ or that I had ‘lost weight’. I wanted to go to repertoire classes and be noticed by the teacher that my moves and style were right. When I was picked to show the dance routine for Cats in the last group I was shocked. Also, the teacher showing us the routine for Bodyguard had asked me to perform it with them and have confidence, which resulted in me forgetting the routine.
When I graduated from London Studio Centre in the Musical Theatre Company directed by Matthew Shaw in 2015 and was given representation by Mark Jermin Management, I still struggled to feel anything. It felt as if each hurdle I came across and would manage to meet, it was never enough to feel as if I could ‘dance’. I had dreamt of the day I would one day be able to be in a third-year show or gain the chance of representation but here I was and I was being reminded I was yet to achieve anything.
Once I graduated, my four- and a half year relationship which had always been long distance, broke down. I now know that I pushed him away as I was dedicated to dancing every day, making no time for calls or meetings over the weekend. It became the occasional skype session which consisted of me moaning about how tired I was or not having the energy to think of anything positive to say. At the time I believed this was for the best as it allowed me to focus even more time each day on auditioning and nothing would stop me from saying yes to any offers.
Dance became consuming. From the moment of waking, I would watch Musical Theatre shows, and listen to Musical Theatre tracks on the way to the theatre where I worked. I would spend my breaks speaking to other fellow dancers and actors about trying to ‘make it’, and when their auditions were. I would speak weekly to my agent about the latest auditions coming up or what I needed to do to get auditions or feedback from the last audition. I would spend my evenings on the way back from the theatre looking at getting new headshots or learning Musical Theatre repertoire. Any spare time would be spent back at the gym or at classes trying to stay fit. This continued for eighteen months while battling a voice inside my head telling me ‘you will never be good enough’. You wake up each day knowing you are your own product which needs to be the best it can be, and it needs to be marketable. You look at your daily calorie intake or how much sleep you are having. You observe the muscles you have over your body or watch how much definition you have lost since graduating. Each day becomes a reminder you are falling behind being successful as a performer.
I had successful auditions and managed to get to the end of Disney call backs and was twice presented with a card. I have managed to work for QDOS which was a fantastic experience. I was in the backing scenes for different series on ITV2 and had callbacks for MTV and got to the finals for a music video. I was proud of myself for the numerous dance calls including Wicked and callbacks for Sound of Music. I remember gradually working away at TV work, which was getting myself callbacks each time, so we kept pursuing this avenue. This again made me feel a mixture of emotion as I knew I wanted to ‘dance’ but then ‘making it’ was something we were told daily.
Every day I was always tired and run down with colds as I was trying to fit everything in. I was hungry for auditions as I had got used to rejection and I was hungry for the money that an audition might give me. You are always taught being hungry in an audition is a bad quality – but how else can you be when you need to pay rent and you have been working at this for years?
It came to the point two years after graduating that I was wanting a way out. Other work opportunities had come to light and I was enjoying time working with children in a new capacity. I chose to accept a new work contract for Explore Learning to become an Assistant Manager in New Barnet which meant writing a letter of resignation to my agent. I then decided to take a complete break from theatre and dance for many months not letting on to new people what I did or what I was passionate about. The break at Explore Learning became an escape and allowed me time to realise I had other attributes. In the dance bubble, everything had become linked to ‘dance’. I had become consumed with the fact that I could only 'dance' or this was all I was good at - which I was learning was not true. This job allowed me to realise I was punctual, organised, resilient and passionate, and these were qualities I had as an individual not just because I ‘danced’.
There are days that are tough when you get up and realise you have no plans booked in the diary to be dancing and a weighted feeling falls on my shoulders. The voice inside my brain creeps back in to tell me that I am once again not good enough at the sport I worked so hard to be good at. Or that I never quite got hold of my unspoken dream of having a career as a dancer and that this means I ‘failed’. You hear voices around you telling you that others are judging you as to why you stopped auditioning.
I now take each week as it comes and I try to remind myself I chose to leave fighting in the industry every day to be my career and I chose to leave the door to dancing ajar. I do try to get back on stage when it is possible, and I do enjoy spending my free time watching performances or listening to musicals. I have learned to enjoy the thrill of helping others to dance or working with creative individuals on projects. I have other aspirations for myself and other achievements, and want to pursue other ventures that are not just me performing on a stage.
I have learned to accept I will always miss the thrill of being on stage when not performing, but I am also proud of other achievements. I am proud of myself as a person for what I have achieved, and that dance does not determine whether I have become successful or not. I have learned about my own identity and that I can be successful at jobs. I can be successful at life and that not living my little girls' dream of dancing for the rest of my life does not determine this. I do not want dance to hold me back from living the life I have been given. I want to spend time in my life being a girlfriend, a friend, a sister, a daughter, and, one day, a mother to my own family. I am ready to tackle a new unspoken dream I have for myself.
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