*Some personal thoughts and reflections that is not cooking related. FYI, it's a bit lengthy.*
On July 27th, I turned 35. 35! I don't feel 35 and people say I don't look 35 but what does any of that mean anyway? When I was a teenager, I was a big dreamer and had my whole life planned out. Married, kids, house, white picket fence, and some amazing dance career all within certain time frames. I quickly realized once I got to college that my life wasn't going to go as planned, but that wasn't a bad thing. I was so excited to see where life would take me.
Fast forward 15+ years, I am nowhere near, literally and figuratively, where I thought I would be. I'm living on the west coast instead of the east coast, I have a condo and not a house (but wow do I feel SO fortunate to be a homeowner in Vancouver!!), no white picket fence yet, I don't have kids, I've done way more children's theatre than I ever imagined, and have not danced nearly as much as I once envisioned.
I grew up with the very beginning of a generation that was told "you can do anything and you can be anything as long as you follow your heart and work hard." So when I was 15, I decided that dance was what I wanted to do. I just needed to dance and perform, it was non-negotiable. I hardly paid attention in high school because my mind was ALWAYS in dance. I would sit in class visualizing my routines or listening to my dance songs on repeat, finding purpose for each movement, the depth of my routines, choreographing, etc. It's a wonder how I ever managed to graduate with honours.
So off I went with no "back-up plan," which people would often ask for. How could I have a back-up plan when I was constantly being told that I have to give a hundred percent a hundred percent of the time? To be clear, I have zero regrets about not having said back-up plan. "How will you make money?" Does it matter? I'll figure it out; I'm following my dreams. I have to put my heart and soul into this, and the blood sweat and tears will pay off. You always hear those stories about how people followed their hearts and worked incredibly hard and their dreams came true. But what about the ones where their dreams do not (fully) come true?
I've been very fortunate over the years to have had so many incredible experiences throughout my performing career. I worked on a cruise ship, travelled from coast to coast in Canada, danced at fancy weddings, birthday parties (how about that 800 person wedding with crystals for decor or the Sweet 16 with showgirls and topless male servers and a sushi bar in a mansion backyard?!), school events, festivals, fundraisers, Miss Universe Canada, Fringe Festivals, PRIDE, and the list goes on. The problem is, I saw every one of those opportunities as a stepping stone. I kept hoping and thinking that one would lead to something bigger.
NUMBERS, Kokus Productions - Toronto Fringe Festival. Photo credit: E.S. Chea
I was fortunate that all the 'joe jobs' I had were mostly able to work around dance. My part-time jobs would generally let me to take time off and promo work allowed me the flexibility to work when I wanted. So I went to every workshop, masterclass, and audition that came through the city and not to mention taking classes regularly and going to the gym. I even did various training programs including the certificate program at Millennium Dance Complex in LA. But I just couldn't book that "bigger" role. Nothing. Zip.
So then, I let my part time job completely consume me and basically stopped dancing. I became entirely unhappy and a shell of the person I once was. After a couple of years, enough was enough. We packed up and moved across the country so I could have a fresh start and one more go at being a performing artist. I told myself that I had to be all-in or the move didn't make sense. So I dove in head first and what an amazing first year it was in the new city. I started teaching the day after we moved, I had a small lead in a heels show, I booked a Fringe show that really pushed me and took me out of my comfort zone, and I went back to Toronto for my beloved seasonal gig.
Then the pandemic hit. I kept my head high and kept training as hard as I could. I wasn't letting any of my hard work over the last year go to waste. I took every online class possible and I became really strong as a dancer and as a person. I was finally healing and discovering the new me but I could only hold on for so long. Two years later, I found myself lost once again. But this time, it was different. First of all, I was a hell of a lot healthier so I could see things clearer but I was also in my early thirties by this time and fighting for a dance performance career was starting to become questionable. My body hurt more, I couldn't keep up with the younger generation, and I struggled to figure out what my relationship with dance was anymore and what it would look like moving forward.
So where does that leave me now? Tired. Exhausted mentally and physically. Tired of my body hurting, tired of being rejected at every audition (and I mean EVERY dance audition), and tired of striving for something that honestly no longer seems feasible. My time and energy is becoming more valuable to me as I get older.
Was it all worth? I think so. It was all rich with travel, experiences, friendships - some that will last a lifetime - that I wouldn't have otherwise had. But it took a significant toll on my mental health and in terms of the performing career itself, I felt like I just kept standing on the platform between stair cases waiting to take the next step.
At what point do I stop putting so much pressure on pursuing a career that I've always wanted so badly but that has also completely worn me down? Is it possible I could transition into dancing purely for fun? I'm not even sure I know how to do that. Dance is my identity. A friend recently said about herself "I don't chase, I attract." (Thanks KP) And that has really resonated with me. I feel like all I've been doing is chasing. Dance will always be a part of my life. But how much moving forward? I'm really not sure.
Over the past couple of years, I have discovered that I also have other interests but it is such a struggle to give myself permission to fully explore those. After years and years of striving for this performing career, it is incredibly difficult to be okay with doing something else - still arts related of course.
At that, I'll leave you with a little snippet of my solo from the 'Posse Power' Pin-Up Posse show this past April. It was a joy to be before an incredible supportive audience and to have my mom there too, what a treat.
Video credit: Baevocative
Song: She's Not There - The Zombies
~ Hannah
Remember, a healthy mind and body equals a happy and healthy dancer.
(I used to sign my blog posts with that phrase. If only I had have taken my own advice so long ago.)
