Embracing the Joy of Dance: Overcoming My Fear of Embarrassment




 

Dancing has always been something I considered embarrassing, associating it with clowns and a fear of becoming a joke. However, an unexpected twist of events during my first-grade dance class challenged my perspective and put on a profound and invaluable lesson. In this blog post, I'll share my journey of conquering my fear, discovering the joy of dancing, and realizing that it's not about being the best dancer but about embracing the happiness it brings.


In my early years, I held a firm belief that dancing was only meant for clowns, and I wanted no part in anything that could potentially make me the laughingstock. This mindset led me to distance myself from dancing altogether. However, a particular day in my first-grade classroom changed everything. As my classmates eagerly anticipated our dance class, I stood red-faced, trying to convince the boys that dancing was not for us. Little did I know, that day would be a turning point in my perception of dance.


Against my protests, two classmates took me by the hands and legs and led me to the dance class. There, I encountered a dance teacher who radiate coolness and kindness. She played music, and to everyone's surprise, nobody knew what steps to perform. As the dance teacher encouraged us to wave our hands, shake our booties, and move our feet, something unexpected happened. Instead of feeling embarrassed, I found myself laughing, enjoying the atmosphere. Moreover, witnessing my friends' terrible dance moves made me realize that dancing was not embarrassing if you compared yourself to a worse dancer.


That day, I carried the dancing vibe home with me. Even my mother remarked, "You were practically dancing your way home!" It was a moment when I decided to face off my fear of being teased. The following day, I positioned myself in the front row of the dance class, observing the steps closely. While others danced out of obligation, I danced with pure joy. We practiced every day for 40 minutes, repeating the same song endlessly, but we were making progress.


The day of our performance arrived, and I discovered that we had been preparing for Parent's Day. This event involved singing, group performances, dances, dramas, and more. Suddenly, my excitement turned into worry, realizing that there would be an audience who wouldn't be dancing, potentially laughing at me. Despite my concern, I couldn't collect the courage to inform my dance teacher that I didn't want to participate. Feeling trapped, I even contemplated false illness to escape the performance.


My attempt to deceive my mother failed, as she saw through my act and insisted on taking me to Parent's Day. The school provided us with costumes, applied makeup, and pushed me onto the stage alongside my classmates. Throughout the performance, I couldn't take my eyes off my mother, who I desperately hoped wouldn't laugh at my dance. Following the steps taught by my teacher, I performed with all my heart, and to my surprise, everyone praised our efforts. My mother's overwhelming pride and happiness were evident as she cheered me on, delighted that I had overcome my fear and showcased my talent.


This experience taught me a profound lesson: dancing comes in various forms, and not all dances invite laughter. While clowns may purposefully entertain through their humorous movements, the same dance performed by someone else, like my younger self on Parent's Day, would be met with praise and encouragement. I discovered that the joy of dance lies in expressing oneself, embracing the moment, and sharing the happiness it brings with others. Dancing became a symbol of personal growth, resilience, and celebration over self-doubt.