In 2019, I enrolled in my first adult dance class in over ten years. I didn’t sign up to perform or to lose weight. I signed up for adult dance because something inside me was missing.
Why I Signed Up for an Adult Tap Class
As a Mom, it is easy to lose what made you YOU before motherhood. Prior to pregnancy, I woke with only myself to consider – my outfit, my meals, my laundry, my well-being. Twelve years later I can honestly say motherhood transformed me from inside out. After a debilitating bout of postpartum depression, my therapist told me I would never get better unless I actively changed my lifestyle. Being a Mother does not have to be my entire persona. So I searched my soul for what used to make me feel most like myself – and I found dance hiding in the shadows of my being.
Dance has been an integral part of my make-up since I was 9 years old. Tap, jazz, and ballet consumed many hours of my week outside of school and sports. I was a member of the first University of Connecticut Tap Team from 2003-2005. I loved every minute dancing because it quieted the noise of adolescence in my head. Learning steps to music challenged my brain and rhythmically moving my body created endless amounts of joy.
It was not easy to sign up for adult dance classes. Aside from finding time to leave my Mom job to attend a dance class, I was petrified to put on a pair of tap shoes. What if I couldn’t remember how to dance after ten years? What if everyone else was more advanced and I couldn’t keep up? The fear of failure or embarrassment was consuming.
When I look back now, it’s comical at how stressful it seemed to commit to taking two hours for myself once a week outside of the home. Anything is possible when it comes to self-care. Plus, my husband was perfectly capable of being Dad to our two young daughters after a long day at work.
What That First Adult Dance Class Was Really Like
As I sat in the dance studio lobby with my tap shoes in hand, I felt sick to my stomach. My heart was racing like I was about to go cliff jumping. But as I looked around, I realized most everyone in the room was just as nervous as I was. During the tap warm up, when my feet refused to remember the simplest steps, I had two choices: run out of the room or laugh.
I chose to laugh. And as class progressed, I felt something wonderful wake up inside me that had been asleep for a very long time.
Ultimately, dance came back to me in a way I did not expect. Don’t get me wrong – my tap step terminology was rusty and my feet often felt like they were moving in slow motion. But I could still shuffle and paradiddle and ball change. Studies say the brain retains motor memory, meaning dancers can recall complex movements after long breaks. Muscle memory is a real thing.
What Adult Dance Class Gave Me (That Therapy Alone Couldn’t)
I thought my first adult dance class would be mortifying and scary, but it was anything but that. My first adult dance class was exhilarating. As our studio time ran up, I felt an overwhelming sense of pride and accomplishment. The bead of sweat at my hairline, the racing of my heart, and the ache in my feet – it was beautiful. I didn’t know how much I missed those post-dance class feelings.
That first adult dance class gave me three incredible gifts. It quieted my brain again, it reminded me I’m allowed to take up space, and it brought back joy that had nothing to do with productivity.
If You’re Thinking About Starting Something Again
If there is something you loved before motherhood — dance, painting, running, writing — and you feel it quietly tugging at you, this is your sign to listen.
You don’t have to be good at it anymore.
You don’t have to be in shape.
You don’t have to be the most talented person in the room.
You just have to begin.
It is not selfish to take up space in your own life. It is not indulgent to carve out two hours for yourself. In fact, reclaiming a small piece of who you were before everyone needed you might be the most selfless thing you can do. When our children see us pursue joy, they learn that adulthood does not mean disappearing.
For years, I packed dance bags and prepped for competitions as a mom on the sidelines. (You can read my full list of dance competition essentials here.) But walking into that studio for myself, all I needed were tap shoes and a little courage.
It’s never too late to dance again. And it’s never too late to come back to yourself.
Leave a Reply