The Dance That Saved Her by Makayla

The Dance That Saved Her by Makayla - May 2022 Scholarship Essay

Music plays & a bright light illuminates the stage. In fifth position, I am standing in front of an audience that is consumed by darkness. The intro of the song fosters graceful movements. A rhythm is composed. Hearing the faint sound of my steps as I jete across the stage prompts that I am alone. A suppressed memory begins to surface. The tempo of the music quickens. A chasse reflects my desire to escape the wave of repressed emotions tethered to the faded images of a child. A pique turn amplifies my internal conflict. If I drown, I will not make it. If I drown, how will I save myself? The dam has broken. Amid a stage, I am suffocating.

This is my story. A young girl whose sense of self-worth unraveled. The thought “you are not good enough to eat” was the catalyst to mentally abusing myself. With disgust, I stared at the manipulated figure held by the frame. I substituted food with water and playtime with sit-ups until it stole my childhood. On a scale, I stood turned from the numbers recited as it developed my fear and obsession with weight. The craving to achieve the cookie-cutter build hid the internal damage I was causing. My constant battle quieting the voices yelling “you will never be good enough” ate away at my strength. Instinctively, I ran from the unbearable noise until finding sanctuary in counts of eight.

Dancing became my refuge, providing moments when words could not touch the articulation of inner turmoil. An art that carried the weight of anxiety to prevent my spine from folding. Like a diary, without judgment, it collected the unfiltered recollections of moments that collectively stained my innocence.

Pirouettes removed my fear of falling. Floor calypsos proved my will to rise. Elegantly performing in front of hundreds restored my confidence. Choreographing solos and ensembles lit a light for those to follow. I no longer face a deformed image but the reflection I wished answered to my name.

My story inspired me to value the insecurities of others. When close friends disparaged themselves, I lifted their self-esteem. Their absence of self-worth broke my heart. I taught the subjective elements of beauty so they could see it within themselves. I grew smiles that were weighed down by tears. I held their hand to implicitly say “you are not alone”. Gradually, I destroyed their pessimistic lens. They began to see themselves the way I saw them: whole.

The outro of the song begins to play. The river that grew from suppressed moments has evaporated. Now, optimism rests in its place. A developpe forms a state of serenity. The last fouette is a perfect turn. The bourre guiding me to the center of the stage places a warm smile on my face. A standing ovation reveals the audience. As my arms fold before me, the solace in knowing that I am breathing creates a graceful bow. Music fades & light slowly dims.