How I Started Feeling Better About Dance Classes

I watched the video play as a loose cacophony of dancers attempted to synchronize an upbeat routine. It was an energetic combination of six eights that presented best with smiles and enthusiasm. Brisk hops and kicks, tight arms and a flailing girl. I experienced a familiar pang of disappointment as the girl missed a step and broke the synchrony. The disappointment descended further down a road called heaviness. The flailing girl was me and I watched the video one more painful time before shutting my phone.

The next morning came and sunlight flitted into my room as I curled my toes under the comforter. The memory of the video last night came tumbling in an unwelcoming wave and I sat up feeling despondent. Was it possible that a silly classroom video could affect me so greatly? The answer was yes. And the answer was that it wasn’t the first time.

My despondency lasted for a day. A day of negative self-talk and feeling poorly about myself. A day of ruminating like the many times I’d done in days past. A day where I asked myself, “Do I want to feel this way again?”

I realize my reaction is dramatic to many, for the magnitude is not justified for something I love as a hobby. I don’t have an ambition to be a dancer. I can only say that I feel this way because it matters to me.

If there is one word to describe my feelings about dance, it is this – crippling inadequacy. I am confident in many areas of my life. I can public speak, I run my own small business, chase politicians and solo travel. But I am reduced to an inferior self when dance class comes. I am stressed, I am wound up, I cannot remember routine. I fumble, I feel embarrassed, I feel lousy and the vicious cycle repeats itself. It is one area in my life where my mind truly hinders my body.

A couple of years ago, I watched a dance battle, where a girl swayed before a huge crowd with closed eyes and heaving shoulders. It was clear to see she was a dancer with limited vocabulary but her bravado and confidence belied her novice skills. Unsurprisingly she lost to her opponent, but I admired her for her courage because it was something I could never do.

Everyone who takes up a dance class has a rough idea of their inclinations. It’s common to hear students say “I’m a Hip Hop person,” “I’m not a Kpop person,” “I’m a Waacking person,” and on and on. The genres we veer towards are reflections of our personality and character. Early on, I knew I liked something cool and androgynous but having not treaded deeply in dance waters, I decided to take different classes. My logic was the more I took, the better I would become. I have since realized that this is the wrong formula. Debatable maybe to many dancers, but true for me, the novice and student dancer.

Being genuine in class is important and that’s why choosing a genre that speaks to you is important. You may attempt the titillating hip roll or swag nod by your instructor, but it is easily disingenuous if you don’t have it in your character to pull it off. It’s easy to feel unaccomplished if you’re always stuck in your head and watching others excel.

Dance classes are as dynamic as they come. Depending on the ideology and passion of the instructor, new vistas in your mind can be opened. Dance is very much about passion and feeling, and that’s why you should be in love with the genre you choose, so you viscerally feel it when the music takes over, and you go at it again and again while experiencing joy.

It’s okay to not like the music or routine sometimes, but certainly not all the time. Mistake number one in hindsight, was not enjoying myself enough and thinking it was perfectly normal.  I was busy taking classes that I didn’t particularly like, thinking I was doing a whole load of good for myself.  When you’re starting out, it’s important to fail, but it’s even more important to succeed. Constantly not doing well and being incapable of mustering love for the dance style leads one to eventually dread class. I believe all these things happened to me. I believe I made myself very small in dance as a result.

Perhaps what started off my negative psyche about dance was my younger days. As a child, my mom told me that I wasn’t the sort of person who would be able to dance. It could be callousness or not knowing better; things she no longer is today, and while she had no mean intentions, the words your parents tell you stay with you for a long time. I carried that feeling like a chronic sickness for most of my adulthood. I remember asking my friend in agitation each time we completed a routine in class, “Do you think I look stupid?” After the thirteenth time, she asked, “Why do you always ask that question?”

The thought of being completely incompetent remained. I was literally a prisoner in my mind. I would start a routine in class with the immediate belief, “I won’t dance well. It’s gonna look lame.” I killed myself with worry when I found out for the first time that dance classes had to be videoed. I actually worked out a deal with my studio to never tag me on social media. Still, I had to undergo the horror of being videoed with the rest of the class. I would stiffen when the camera came on and go home to replay all the mistakes I did over and over again. Feeling bad was an understatement.

 Dancing Myself to Disaster

It didn’t take long for my dance instructors to recognize that I was easily stressed and paranoid. They were kind about it with some going out of their way to make me feel safe in class. Locking was one of the classes I took. I highlight this class because it was this class that got me to soul-search and think deeply about dance and myself.

I never had a preference for Locking. My main motivation was the instructor. He was a dancer with enormous talent and possessed a rare musicality that gave him centerstage presence. I was entranced with his movements. I was sure I could learn a lot from him and felt it silly to pass up the opportunity to learn from a good dancer.

Certainly his classes were never easy and if you were looking for “fun,” this was not the class. Technique and repetition ruled the day and together we bounced our heads and stretched our necks in tedium. He made us do foundational things that challenged our motor skills and reflexes. These were great exercises that no other instructor did and I was reinforced in the correctness of my decision. I saw the sincerity in his intentions and I believed I was doing myself a world of good even though I wasn’t really enjoying myself.

The difficulty in his class was compensated by his good-nature and encouraging demeanour, never once did he berate or make a student feel bad. And so I plodded on for a year even though I found no joy in locking my arms and twirling my wrists. My body never moved joyfully to the music and routines were very much work for me. Sometimes my eyes would go to the clock and I wrestled with low motivation.

Two years went by and no love was forthcoming still.

Among the words I would offer to describe myself is “loyal.” Loyalty to a point of self-encroachment in this matter. I never mastered the weekly routines, never found raw enjoyment of dancing, never fantasized myself doing a lock. I would see my reflection grimacing, see how hapless I looked, how unnatural it all seemed on my body. And the more I saw myself this way, the more certain I was that I was a terrible dancer. I was self-mutilating without realizing.

Of course as the years went by, I became less clumsy and my neck sprang back and forth with a little more inertia. Occasionally the videos we took wouldn’t bother me, and I was decent, but there were plenty of times when I wasn’t and I would go back to that one-day depression spiral thing. I found myself asking the same question every year, “Should I stop this class?”

Perhaps too, an instructor becomes your friend and I stayed for a long time because I believed my presence meant support for him. He was a genuinely decent human being and I believed good people need to be supported.

The months rolled by. And then I headed to NYC.

An Epiphany in NYC

I took a 3-week vacation where dance classes were part of my holiday itinerary. Eager to challenge myself, I nervously signed up for a dance class in Brooklyn and strutted to the studio, determined not to embarass myself and hopefully do well. It wasn’t easy but the class was doable. American studios have a default dance level that is higher than the Malaysian and there I was ready to prove. I gave it my all but was huffing and puffing the loudest in class and perplexing the instructor in the process. I found the instructor’s teaching style enlightening, - plenty of verbal explanation (almost an exposition) in nailing a move. All in all, it was a good class but I couldn’t say I liked it. I found the instructor a little too cool and could not connect to the low-key rap track.

I wanted a class with a better vibe.  And so I googled and found myself in downtown Brooklyn staring at a shiny modern building that fulfilled all my cosmopolitan fantasies. It was my second dance class in a crowded studio here that blew my mind and brought forth an epiphany of sorts. The instructor was an energetic bunny with amazing playfulness. He broke down the routine in the simplest way and brought the dance to fiery levels with his skills. And when the counts began,……. I found myself giving completely to the music and enjoying it on a visceral childhood level. I was far from afraid when we were summoned to dance in turns in groups. I just wanted to bring it! Never before had I felt this way. I wanted to be looked at and was warrior-like motivated to give it my all. The video later showed that I was sloppy and made plenty of mistakes, except that I didn’t feel bad one bit. One girl came up to me and said, “You killed it,” while the instructor said “So fun dancing with you.”

I loved that feeling. I returned to my Airbnb with a high. I felt achieved, felt my self-esteem going upwards. Hmmm I thought to myself, maybe I wasn’t terrible after all. I took another class the next week with a different instructor, and once again, had a magical time with dance. While I was unfamiliar with the music, I completely enjoyed the routine and found myself eager to go at it again and again. I must add that these were urban choreography classes, classes I surprisingly, and stupidly did not take back home.

I was clearly doing something wrong back home. There was no doubt my instructors were great but perhaps I was unable to feel the way I did in the Brooklyn class because I was doing a genre I didn’t like and if I can be very honest, to music I didn’t particularly fancy. And I had been doing it for so long that I had forgotten what I even liked. In the process of my dance classes, I had been excelling so little because of my lack and feeling so bad, a vicious cycle that went on and on. There was no one to blame but myself.

I came back to Malaysia renewed and more confident. Yet for all my enlightenment, I had no will to stop a class. I continued going to classes even though the same lack of enthusiasm returned. I justified that it was improving me in other ways. After all, there was plenty of good energy and laughter in class too. No I wouldn’t give it up.

And then the offending video happened!

We took a video after Locking class as usual. It was a happy class that day and I was in a good mood. I had flailed and clutzed but went home feeling alright. It was only when I saw that video that my mood truly took a nosedive. I remember sitting on my bed and experiencing a heavy wave of gloominess that made me re-watch the video in self-torture. I got into a serious one-day depression. Dramatic? Whatever, I was so fed up of feeling this way.

I found myself going through a crisis after the video hijacked my happy state,. I asked my momma and a best friend if I should stop the class. “If you don’t enjoy it, you should just stop,” they replied, puzzled at how much it was affecting me. Yet I wasn’t convinced, because I believed that enjoyment cannot be the sole determinant in doing things. I know that a degree of monotony and grinding is inevitable in achieving something. “But my instructor is a really good dancer,” I kept countering stubbornly. The argument went nowhere.

In my mental standstill, I asked the opinion of an acclaimed dancer who was a good friend. “I learn many things in my dance class and am constantly challenged. The instructor is really great, but I don’t enjoy it. Should I continue?” He listened to me thoughtfully. He was a person who drilled and understood the meaning of doing things you didn’t like. At the same time, and more than anything, passion was what made him dance so hard “Perhaps you could treat it like an exercise,” he finally said. “it’s really up to you.”

I decided he was right. It was good advice. I must compartmentalize my emotions and see my Locking class as a workout. I was not fully convicted but that would be the route I take. The Universe looked at me from above and shook its head at my self-denial.

 And Then I Saw a  STEEZY Video……

A few nights later while I was browsing YouTube videos on my bed, a dance video innocently came up on my feed. A STEEZY dance video. Hmmm what’s that? I didn’t think anything as I clicked on the video. Some rad dancer dancing. As I absently scrolled through the comments, something caught my attention. Someone asked if he could be good doing a dance genre he didn’t like. My eyes widened. There were comments. Many gave advice and opinions. I feverishly read them all. And then one comment stuck out. To paraphrase, this commenter said, “This isn’t only a dance thing. If you don’t like writing, will you be able to write well? If you don’t like drawing, will you be able to do your best work?”

Lights went on in my head, and realization hit me loud and clear. It was the “like” that had to sustain you. The foundation of liking something had to be strong to sustain a boring process. I love writing but the writing process can also be boring. I struggle to complete a short story at times, but I go on because I like it. Why is it that I can sit for a 2-hour writing classes and find it hugely interesting? Because I like it! Above all, seeing progress makes me happy and encouraged. My confidence from my progress leads me to do all kinds of things with my writing and achieving with it. I have never done anything with dance because I felt absolutely small in dance. And therefore no significant progress can be made. My self-flagellation meant fear and no confidence.

I immediately typed in the comment box. “Should I continue this dance class of mine? I don’t enjoy the genre and I don’t look forward to it, but it’s a really good dance class…….” Even before I finished writing the question, I suddenly realized how absurd, how utterly obvious the answer was. I suddenly had the answer, crystal clear. Nobody replied to my question, proving the obvious absurdity to it. I made up my mind right there. The truth was, I could not compartmentalize my Locking class as a workout. I would continue to feel affected if I didn’t do well.

Perhaps, telling my instructor was the hardest part of it. I painfully waited for a few days to pass before finally writing a brief message to explain my decision. I did my best to soften the blow but still, I stared at the message for 27 minutes, unable to press the send button. When I finally hit send, I threw my away phone in fright.  He replied me some minutes later, sounding jovial and understanding. I didn’t feel good for the rest of the night.

New Chapter

For the record, STEEZY is an online dance studio based in LA that offers classes from some of the best instructors in the world. Well, say hello to its newest member - ME!

Funny, how once a decision has been made, it all becomes so much clearer. I started taking up STEEZY online dance classes and a whole new world of dance opened up to me. It became obvious what I liked. I found myself choosing all the urban choreography classes and skipping most that weren’t. Old habits take time to die. Occasionally I would take a genre I didn’t enjoy and I had to stop myself from spending too much time on it. My opinion is that you can start venturing into other classes when your basics are strong, when you’re fluent in your genre language, or at least when you’re not going to be depressed over one bad video like me (heehee). Otherwise it’s best you work on improving what you like instead of being half-assed in everything. You need to give yourself confidence and see measurable progress to sustain your interest.

I also began videoing myself because online classes offer no feedback. I almost vomited the first time I saw myself in solo glory. I looked spastic and beyond words lame. Why did I look so weak? Why were my arms limp like noodles? Why did I look so un-clean compared to the dancers on the video? The amount of self-correction and repetition I had to do just to undo all my bad habits were enormous. I’m still working on it because entrenched bad habits take a long time to die. Sometimes I would do a routine 60 times just to look halfway decent. Of course it’s discouraging, but when I see my progress at the 61st video, I feel encouraged. And I remind myself that everyone has their own journey. 

Because the dancers on STEEZY are world class, standards are high. Oh don’t get me wrong. The instructors are some of the nicest people ever and instruction is thoughtful and clear. What was really tough was trying to mimic them. I would learn a choreo and see how different I looked when I danced it compared to them. It made me really up my standards and work harder. Improving comes when you repeat again and again, instead of learning as many choreos and not drilling enough. I realized that a huge portion of improving is watching yourself on video. I spent so much time looking at my videos and the dance instructor’s just to see where I went wrong and how I could improve. I avoided doing it in the past because watching myself was excruciating; but trust me, it levels you up.

STEEZY choreographies are not easy too. The intermediate and advanced routines are hardly choreographed at single counts; often jamming 3 big moves into one count. You end up panting like a dog after a couple of rounds. Because there are so many instructors to choose from, you’re always doing movement you’re not comfortable with and increasing the dynamism of your body.

I’ve learned so much in these few months with STEEZY. I’ve learned that physical fitness has to be present if you want to dance well. You need the strength to look strong and energetic. The lack of stamina cuts off your big movements and you’ll be limited to the choreos you can do. You don’t need to be super flexible but you do need to be limber and your core (abs and thighs) has to be strong. I’ve developed a deeper understanding of about music, intention and control.

I’ve never felt better about my dance self than I have now with STEEZY. It could be an introvert thing but the luxury of being able to repeat the class again and again in the privacy of my own house is extremely empowering. There’s no judgement and pressure. Sometimes dance instructors don’t realize how intimidating a dance class is. Moving a routine too quickly to show how cool and challenging your class may be great on your ego, but it’s pretty shattering for the fumbling student. Showing an impatient face is another killer. And you wonder why a student doesn’t come back. 

Shortly after going on STEEZY, I forced myself to post videos on my Instagram story; not because I thought I was great (and I’m far from it), but because I wanted to break down my own walls.  I’d never dare volunteer a video of myself in the past. I’m happy to report that posting dance videos has become a regular activity for me now, one that doesn’t induce fright anymore. It’s like a fun thing now :)

In the few months of me taking STEEZY, I have seen the most dance progress in myself. It’s nothing mindblowing but the most important breakthrough for me is that I feel good about myself and look forward to learning new routines. I’m enjoying the things I’m learning and feeling more genuine about it as the days go by. STEEZY is easily one of the best things I’ve done for myself.

My improvement in dance has shown me that the quality of your practice makes all the difference in results – whatever you do! It’s also shown me that you need to have a certain belief in yourself before your body and the cosmic universe allows tangible improvement to happen. Belief has to be in place before hard work can truly do the work. Belief gets more and more reinforced when you see progress.  And more than anything, move toward things that you truly love.  

I hope you find what you love, and beyond just loving it, apply yourself to getting good at it. Compare yourself to no one except for the version you were yesterday. Don’t get lazy, because hell; it’s so much easier to be happy in life when you see progress in the areas that mean something to you.

5, 6, 7, 8 woohooo!