The lights were glaring right into my eyes and I couldn't see anyone in the audience. It looked like I was all alone, but I knew I wasn't. I could hear the whispers coming from what looked like a black hole and I wanted the music to start before I got more nervous than I already was.
When I found out that I was given a jazz solo in 2008 for dance festival I was so excited! I had been wanting a solo for years and it was finally my turn. After weeks and weeks of practicing and perfecting, it was time for me to perform in front of too many strangers. I wasn't comfortable walking onto the stage. I had never danced in front of this many people by myself. I always had at least five other girls with me on stage so this feeling of being alone was completely new to me. I had always watched the other girls do their solos in the previous years and wondered what it felt like to be up there alone. It wasn't nearly as glorious as I thought it would be. My heart was beating so fast. I told myself that this was it and I had to do it; get it over with.
Looking back on that day, I'd like to say that I'm proud of how I performed, but for some reason I can't. Whenever I look back on that day all that I can remember was the beating of my heart and the glaring lights. I can't even remember the actual performance.
What I did take away from that day was that I was able to put myself out there for everyone to see. Mistakes included. It's the fact that I pushed myself to do it that I'm proud of. Sure, my dancing may not have been perfect that day, and I may have psyched myself out, but I did it. That's really what I should be remembering from that day. Not the heartbeat, not the lights, and not the small mistakes. All that I should remember was that I did it and that's enough for me.