I embody the broken record with my pre-performance cycle. Sign up, uncertainty slides in, consider dropping out, ultimately pull through. Anxiety and I doing our little dance. She just wants to help, but this isn’t about her. It’s about taking a chance and how it turns out. You want and need to do something, give it your best shot. That’s how I approached the third year performing in the pole studio’s Halloween showcase.
Three months between competition and showcase, that’s plenty of time. Did I use the full three months? Sort of. August saw competition recovery. In September I went back and forth on songs between Victoria Monét’s “Alright” and Halle’s “Because I Love You”. Also, every class and practice put me through the wringer. Nothing wanted to work like I knew it could. Not the best combination with an upcoming performance. I decided on “Alright” as my song despite the intimidation of a hit record with an amazing video. Chickening out wasn’t acceptable therefore Victoria won.
A mash up of competition and recent classes were my choreography structure. I had to let go of the need to be impressive and work with what I was enjoying. I found elements that work with the music and decided where to place difficult ones. Some ideas weren’t viable, save for later. It took an hour to get 18 seconds of choreography down. Initially frustrating but ultimately satisfying to complete the opening. One evening I put the song on repeat and mapped out the full routine. Just like for PSO Triangle I let the music lead. Attention grabbing opening beats and “4K titties” led the way.
I let time get away from me and doubt catch me. Typical, I know. I made it to half of the Open Gyms I planned to attend in October. Homecoming took time and energy. I considered dropping out for weeks. There was an internal tug of war between knowing I can only improve by performing and fear of embarrassing myself due to fatigue and feeling unprepared. Maybe even feeling slightly unmotivated. There’s an accomplishment in my bag already this year, couldn’t I skip this? “No”, the consistent response from the daring part of me.
I wasn’t confident on Saturday, but I was determined. I told myself the following before I got ready: this is a push, a moment to try and honor myself a little bit. Try the song, do it. Move. It’s freestyle-esque because the routine hasn’t seen a full run through. This might be a breakthrough for me. Even without a lot of preparation I can give a decent performance. I am tired but deep down I need and want all the performance experience I can get.
Took a breath, put on a little makeup, and hopped in the car. My competition turned performance playlist spilled from the speakers. Music never fails me. Despite not feeling the regular sweaty, shaking nerves I did apply about 5 layers of grip. The end of my old faithful Sahara Dry, a little Monkey Hands, some Arid Plane, a little more Monkey Hands to be safe, Arid Plane again, more chalk than stick. I consider this progress. Also, no glasses, perhaps my best coping mechanism.
I sat at my altar before I got dressed repeating: determined, breathe, give enough energy and strength to execute. I feared fatigue or holding my breath. Neither were a problem. Straight through start to finish. A few ugly adjustments in places lacking a clean transition, but the feedback was very positive. I appreciated it so much; it was a major boost for my confidence. Even abandoned my plan of leaving early. If things went south, I was going to take my bruised ego home. My reward for persevering: Culver’s single butter burger and crinkle fries.
It all paid off. I was the least nervous I’ve ever been. It was essentially a fuck it, let’s do it live situation. Whatever it was going to be it would be. Hadn’t touched the routine in two weeks, hadn’t touched a pole in over a week. The only way out is through, so performing was non-negotiable. I can’t better grasp my style or what I like if I don’t perform. I have to keep pushing the boundaries of my comfort zone.
I’m proud of myself for not dropping out, the shadowy Plan B. I had good reason, mildly unprepared, still recovering from homecoming, tired, a little tight. The daring part of me refused to accept my reasons, or in her view excuses. I’m glad I didn’t give up. Proved to myself that once again I can do hard things, my therapist’s phrase. It would have been easy to stay on my couch and watch Couple’s Therapy (fantastic program, Orna embodies compassion and empathy).
Instead, I packed my snacks, put on my face and clothes, and drove down the highway. What I received in return was the power of muscle memory, doing what you love, and going with the flow (one of my friends will appreciate that). That was the main thing, go with the flow. That’s not my M.O. I enjoy things but I like to plan, it keeps me together. I held the pieces, but the puzzle wasn’t complete. It should work and it did. Even through the hiccups, I’m proud. The best compliment was that I showed grace, that meant so much to me. Thank you, Kelly! I’m never described that way; I appreciate and cherish it.
The feeling I have is brand new, never known it. I am less inclined to criticize myself, I suppose because I already told myself we’re just going to try. No real expectations, just the desire to complete the task. Sometimes that’s all we need. Desire, determination, and going for it. The feedback I received also led me to the conclusion that once I get a grasp on finesse, I’m going to be a problem. Smooth out my transitions and lean into floorwork, watch out. Ha, look at me starting to believe in myself.
Just Do It: Showcase Edition
