See Me, See You, See Us

One of my childhood highlights was attending VBS (Vocational Bible School) during the holidays. It was a whole week of fun, games, and learning really cool songs to sing and, sometimes, dance to. At the end of the week, we got to present what we learnt in front of the entire congregation during the Sunday service. Although we took a majority of the week learning and practising, I usually felt tears welling up in my eyes each time I took my place on stage. I knew the lyrics by heart, I knew the dance moves, I had memorized the Bible verses to recite, but still, I was getting impacted in a way I didn't understand. We were probably 50 kids on stage, but it felt like all eyes were on me. I felt uncomfortably seen and exposed. I wondered whether the parents, from the pews, could tell I was on the verge of crying, and whether the kids standing next to me could notice my tears balancing. No one ever made mention of it, but in the midst of these experiences, this one lady out of the blue began referring to me as "superstar". I didn't know or understand why, considering my less than confident demeanor, but I liked it. I welcomed it. Me, a superstar...balancing tears and all. Yes, a superstar!

Last month, I had a conversation with a dancer friend who said, "Mine was not a freestyle issue, it was an identity issue," and it caught my attention. Freestyle has never been my cup of tea, I have always leaned more towards choreography. I like the predictability. I like that there's a plan to be followed. Everytime I am required to freestyle, my mind races uncontrollably with thoughts of what to do, what looks good, and what might be expected of me. My apprehension towards Freestyle, I discovered, stems from a fear of being seen figuring it out as I go...my nervous system needs all the extra help finding safety in this. My ideal situation would be showing up to a Freestyle session knowing exactly what I'll do and how I'll move, without a million racing thoughts. Then, I'll not only be the superstar I am meant to be, but I'll also look like, and most importantly, feel like it...or will I?

The way we see ourselves impacts how we show up, and that in turn impacts how we are perceived. Nobody wants to be seen struggling in their humanity. It's much safer to show up neatly put together. Life; however, is constantly throwing curveballs our way, and so the struggle takes place, regardless. How then do we see oursleves in these moments of struggle? How can I notice myself on the verge of tears on stage and still see myself as a superstar? How can you succumb to imposter syndrome for so long and still see yourself as a dancer, creative, or artist? How can we experience the imperfections of our humanity without letting them limit us or hold us back? Perfectionism (or as I like to call it, excellence) and avoidance aren't the antidote. The antidote is learning how to hold space for our humanity. It is learning how to acknowledge the struggle. It is learning how to get back up and give it another go. It is learning how to be seen trying, successfully and unsuccessfully, without it impacting our worth. When we see ourselves for who we truly are in these moments, balancing tears and all, we give ourselves a chance to flourish despite, despite, despite. So dancer friends, whether you are recognizing the superstar within yourself, or in others, you're doing the Lord's work. See yourself! Look at you go!

Keep creating & sharing!

~your dancer friend