An Old Demon

Mistakes are the most natural thing when you are learning something new. I was taught (or taught myself) at a young age that this wasn't good enough. That I needed to get it right. That I needed to be the best. That my worth was in being number 1. 

This translated very quickly into one of the ways I told my tiny self, "You aren't good enough." I then proceeded to gift this message to myself as I grew into a confident teen, who then became an insecure shell-of-herself teen. I've even tried telling almost-adult me this lie - sometimes I let it stick. 

I danced from the age of 2 - 16. I loved it. It defined me and this was okay, because I was good. Top marks in exams, always in the front, biggest smile etc. I was on top of the world. Truly, cloud nine. Dancing was who I was and I lived and breathed it. If you have come into my life in the past 5 years this might be news to you. It no longer is the first thing I tell someone. It's not how I cross a room anymore, chasse, pas de bourree.* It no longer defines me. 

*said sha-say, par-da-bor-ray

Even this surprises me sometimes. "I'm not a dancer?" I ask myself. What I'm saying is deeper than that shallow question. I know the terms, I can (kinda) do the moves and I still love it. But what I mean when I ask myself that is, "It's not my identifier? No one, these days, knows me as 'a dancer'?" I feel a pang of pain deep in my heart, in the box labelled "Stuff I'm Crap At Letting Go Of." You have a box like that too? Great. We aren't alone. You see I still want to be a dancer, for no reason other than it was my brain's number one answer to "who is Shani Joy Vaughan" for 14 years. Thats more than half my life. There are so many more reasons why I don't want to be defined this way, far more sane and less primal than a habit or feeling of loss. 

Dancing was my favourite activity for most of that 14 years but I'd say for a good 2-3 years of that, it was a living hell. I began not living up to my own standards. Not getting put in the front, making more mistakes, feeling less smiley, getting worse grades in exams. It was legit painful to go to class because I was hurting myself each time I "practised" and got it wrong. This is literally the intent of practicing, to mess up so you learn to get it right and improve. I was putting myself through rigorous emotional blackmail, and it wasn't just me, my dancing teacher wasn't the kindest of them all (put gently as to not offend.) Add staring at yourself in front of a mirror in a room filled with 15 or so teenage girls, judging & criticising yourself against them. I couldn't live up to my standards, I couldn't beat their standards, I was an all round failure. In my head. 

I would beat myself up (with the verbal help of my teacher) and come home crying and defeated because this standard I had set really had no measurement to it. It was just bigger, better, best & scrap the rest. So I quit. I saw that I was unnecessarily putting myself through stupid scrutiny, the teacher was harmful to my wellbeing and the dance school was cliquey. This was a good decision, but I have missed it ever since. 

So we come to now. I'm 21 and about to finish my first term back at dancing (a new dance school.) I am no where near number one in the class. I'm much closer to the worst than I have ever been. But I have also done a lot of growing in these past 5 years. I now know it's okay not to be the best, it doesn't make me less in any way apart from being able to appreciate that girl shakin' her thang in the right direction while I'm over here spinning in the wrong direction. 

But I can feel it. This recipe I taught myself for 14 years, the equation that says I should just leave cause dang do I suck. The self hatred and self discipline to always be the best, to please that voice in my head that is nothing but nasty, evil and warped. I hear it when I don't pick a move up instantly and I hear it when I stuff up something I know how to do. It taunts me when I see someone do the move with more feeling, when I can't because I still put my feet in the wrong places. 

And I'm trying to fight it. This thing I ran from 5 years ago. I have returned stronger and I'm going to beat it. Just because I was once epic at this one thing, doesn't mean I will forever be the queen of it. There's no need. I'm relearning so much, including how to give myself grace.

Thats what this is all about really. Grace. Forgiveness. Letting go. Not holding onto upset and disappointment in self. Not bullying and throwing verbal punches at myself, while trying to do a graceful lyrical dance and then being mad I was so rigid. I am learning how to be kind and fair to myself. To push past the pain it takes to know I'm not "the dancer." To know I'm defined by something and Someone far greater than an art, hobby or job. That being a beloved child of God will sustain me. To know I don't lean on my own understanding or strength. That the Creator of the universe calls me friend. That I don't need to be harsh or bitter or angry or upset with my body for going this way instead of that. Mistakes have their place in practice and learning. If we were perfect at everything, what would be the point? There is joy in conquering that next move that you swore you couldn't. 

So here is me declaring that I will conquer this demon that is wanting back into my head. Through Christ and His love,  I know I am more than that mistake or even that perfect turn. That He is bigger and brings more joy and wholeness than the identity of being a dancer could ever. 

I give this want, this desire, this ache up to you Lord. 

No more beating myself up. Game over demon.

S.