Monday, September 16, 2013

And all that jazz....

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This weekend I had the pleasure of celebrating the 40 year anniversary of my old dancing school.

The organisers went all out in decorating with what seemed like hundreds of old dancing costumes, programmes and grainy video footage from the 1970's. The place was littered with sequins, feathers, character costumes, wigs, face masks and tutus. The smell of hair spray and heavy make-up instantly filled my nostrils.

You see, each year our dancing teachers organise an end-of-year concert. Each and every year for the last 40 years. Apparently, when I was younger the concert didn't bother me. I shook my hips and head in apparent sync with the other five year olds and had the time of my life. However, as I got older, that confidence waned and eventually dwindled away completely as I started to freak out more and more at the prospect of performing in front of people. If I wasn't backstage throwing up between dances, I was missing them all together.

This is the main reason that I don't dance any more, the sheer panic of performing.

I loved dancing though. I still love dancing.

As soon as a show tune starts to play, I can't not start tapping my foot and waving my hands around madly. But who doesn't love a show tune, right?

I took dance classes for 19 years. My main style was ballet, however, I tried my hand at modern, tap and jazz....quiet unsuccessfully I might add. But had fun giving it a red hot go nonetheless.

My dancing teachers are incredible ladies. They have a serious passion for dance and teaching it to others. They have always felt like family.

I learnt a lot under their expert tutelage but the best thing to come out of my 19 years are the relationships that I have made. Some of my closest friends I met at dance class and I wouldn't be without them.

I haven't danced for 11 years now. I can't believe it has been that long. I have still gone along to watch every concert, with the exception of last year when I was heavily pregnant and extremely uncomfortable with my little man. That was always the only way to get out of heavily pregnant.

It was lovely to spend this night reminiscing and talking of favourite times from days gone by. I cherish them so much.

Do you like to perform?
Or are you like me, a big scaredy cat?

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