We all know that dance careers are short. But we don’t think our dance career will be short.

Data from Columbia University and Macquarie University shows that dancers expected to retire far later than they actually do.

This gap between expectations vs reality sets us up for major disappointment.

So what does the data actually say and what does it mean for professional dancers?

Expectations vs Reality

As an overview, researchers surveyed dancers from various genres including ballet and classical dance, modern, contemporary, aboriginal and folk dance, as well as commercial dance across the US, Switzerland, and Australia.

Starting with the Australian dancers, of those surveyed, the average expected retirement age was 46.6 years old while the actual retirement age was 32.2 years old.

This is a whopping difference of 14.4 years, which means that Australian dancers retired almost a decade and a half earlier than they expected.

The American dancers surveyed expected to retire at age 40.9 but actually retired at age 33.9, a difference of 7 years and the Swiss dancers surveyed thought they’d retire at age 40.9 but in reality, retired at age 34.6, a similar difference of 6.3 years.

Although the American and Swiss dancers had more realistic expectations compared to the Australians, they were still off by quite a large margin.

And frankly, I’m surprised by these numbers. We all know that dance careers a notoriously short, right?

So why is there such a big gap between expectations vs reality.

Awareness alone is not enough

According to the researchers, awareness alone is not enough. The study showed that most dancers were aware that dance careers are short compared to other professions, yet still were unprepared for the transition.

However, it should be pointed out that this study didn’t follow the same set of dancers to determine when they thought they’d retire and when they actually did.

It was a single group of dancers (both active and former professionals) meaning the current dancers were not the same people as the retired ones.

So, the researchers believed that perhaps the current dancers felt that had more access to support and more awareness of the challenges a pivot would pose.

And while I tend to disagree as, even now, there isn’t much support for professional dancers to help them change careers, it’s clear that this awareness is not enough to stop dancers from having a skewed sense of reality when it comes to retirement age.

Conscious avoidance

The researchers also suggested that conscious avoidance could be the reason why so many dancers overestimate how long their dance careers will last.

An Australian dancer who was part of the study noted:

“Dancers do not fully explore career options whilst dancing for fear that it will jeopardize their career. Lack of confidence to do something else and succeed make the transition period difficult.”

For these reasons and more, it makes sense to me that professional dancers would have the understanding that dance careers are short while avoiding that fact in their own lives.

There’s so much stigma around retiring from professional dance and so telling the story that your dance career will last into your 40s sounds reasonable when you’re 25.

But the truth is, dance careers hardly ever last that long.

Your expectations shape your reality

So why share all this?

It’s not scare dancers into retirement or shame them about how tricky it is to face the music.

It’s simply to give dancers the facts, to help them get really honest, and to make sure they don’t feel like something’s wrong with them if their dance careers end much earlier than they expected.

A career pivot is hard enough. Leaving a dance career is even harder. There’s no need to make the transition any more difficult by setting the wrong expectations.

Instead of lying to ourselves about the true length of a dance career, what if instead you treated it like a beloved chapter in your life that makes sense when it ends.

Dance careers are short. Yes, even yours. And that’s ok.

Source: Life after Dance: Career Transition of Professional Dancers

If you’re a dancer, you probably know the famous Martha Graham quote:

“A dancer dies twice — once when they stop dancing, and this first death is more painful.”

On the surface, this can seem pretty dramatic.

But as I discovered in my recent conversation with Ali Block, for so many dancers, this feeling is only too real.

After an impressive 15-year career in ballet with credits including Texas Ballet Theater, Eugune Ballet Company, Eglevsky Ballet, and even playing the role of Clara in the Radio City Christmas Spectacular, Ali is now semi-retired, pursuing a new career in psychology research.

Still, even though Ali is incredibly passionate about her new career path, letting go of ballet feels, to her, like experiencing a death.

And the grieving period that goes along with it is just as messy.

So, why do most of us feel this way when we step away from careers as professional dancers?

Dance is our whole world

Especially for dancers who start very young (which, let’s be honest, is most of us), dance becomes everything to us.

It’s how we make friends, how we work through our emotions, how we identify, and how we spend all of our time.

Plus, to get to a professional level, all of us made sacrifices that many other professions don’t require.

We forego high school parties and boyfriends, let go of our studies for a more dance-focused education, and even put our health to the side (both physical and mental) for the sake of dance.

It’s certainly not all negative. Dance helped us find joy and meaning in our lives, we gained confidence and a sense of self, and we learned about pushing through challenges… becoming more than we thought we could be.

The death of a dance career

But when you put all of these experiences together, stepping away means letting go of more than a hobby or a career. It’s letting go of who you are.

It is a kind of death.

The death of your past self. The death of your youth. The death of your life.

I think another reason why letting go of dance can be so painful for so many of us is the fact that dance careers are short.

Even if you become a teacher or a choreographer and you’re part of the dance world, it’s not really the same, is it?

Stepping away from dance is like losing any meaningful relationship.

Sometimes, our relationship with dance is the strongest one we have, and losing that connection can be gut-wrenching, even if you know it’s the right thing to do.

It’s like a microcosm of life itself. Life is meaningful because it ends. Dance careers are special because they end too, often earlier than we’d like them to.

Ali’s story reminds us that the career change journey isn’t linear. It’s full of happiness, excitement, and curiosity, but also full of grief, existential crisis and depression.

It’s important to understand that your career change after dance can feel like a death, and preparing for it ahead of time can make the transition feel, hopefully, a little less dramatic.

But, sounds like Martha was right on the money. A dancer dies twice.

As professional dancers, we’re not taught to think about money, security, or our long-term futures.

But if a recession is looming, it’s probably time we started thinking about it.

While no one can predict the future, it’s undeniable that dancers are left in a precarious situation if (and when) the economy takes a turn. And the reality is, markets go up and down in cycles — downturns are nothing new.

So, who’s really benefitting from burying our heads in the sand when it comes to thinking about our finances?

Not dancers…

And with that, what can you be doing to prepare your dance career for a potential recession?

First, why are dancers vulnerable in a recession?

Well, we honestly don’t really care about money.

Passion is the currency and we’re dancers because we’re doing what we love, not because we’re promised a hefty paycheck.

But unfortunately, passion doesn’t pay the rent.

And without a 401K, benefits, or severance, dancers absorb all the shock when a show closes or theaters shut down.

Even worse, we’re not even willing to think about our future selves for fear that we’re betraying our dance careers.

But the only one who ends up betrayed is the version of you that ends up back at your parents house or worse.

How dancers can prepare for a recession

Anticipating a recession isn’t about starting a panic, it’s simply about preparation.

The good news is that there are things dancers can do while they’re working as a professional to get ahead.

First and foremost, dancers need to open their minds. Start thinking long-term and consider more than just the next contract. Take it seriously and treat your future self with respect.

Then, you’ll want to take a good hard look at your finances. How much are you actually spending? Do you have any savings at all? Would you be ok if you lost your job?

From there, it’s time to get a handle on your transferable skills. There’s so much we learn throughout our dance careers that prove to be a huge leg up in other industries, so long as you yourself believe it.

Recession-proof your dance career

You don’t have to let go of your dance career to become more recession-proof. But avoiding talking about money and pretending that money doesn’t matter won’t do you any good either.

Recessions come and go, so we might as well face the music (and dance!).

What do you think? Is this fear-mongering or a hard truth?

There’s a common myth in the dance industry that if you have a plan B, then you won’t succeed.

To be a real professional dancer, it means you must sacrifice all other interests and keep your soul focus narrowed in on auditions, class, and your level of performance.

Seems a bit extreme when you say it out loud, right?

Well I had a chat with an old friend last month who’s proof that this myth is truly a myth. She’s build a thriving wedding videography business alongside her full-time dance career. Plus, she became a mom a few years ago too!

Which begs the question, is it really a death sentence to your dance career to have a backup plan? Can you pursue your other interests at the same time and still succeed?

Rachel Lee is the head of Narlee Film Co and has been filming weddings ever since she filmed her own in 2019. But she’s also a professional dancer who’s worked in Orlando theme parks since 2012.

So how does she balance it all?

Well the truth is, it took a while to find her feet and she’d be the first to say that she doesn’t always get it right.

And after becoming a first-time mom which demanded more from her than she expected, it was essential to find productivity systems that actually worked (check out Rachel’s YouTube channel with calm productivity hacks for your creative business).

The point is, she followed another passion which led to a big payoff, especially when the pandemic hit and motherhood put her dance career on hold.

The work she put in ahead of time by pouring into her lucrative videography hobby paid dividends once she needed more sustainable career options.

None of us can predict the future. We don’t know what might get thrown at us. So wouldn’t you want to invest in a future career you actually enjoy (without giving up your dance career just yet).

All in all, having a plan B doesn’t mean you’re not committed. It just means you’re a complex human with other interests and needs.

It also means you’re being realistic about how long dance careers actually are (ahem… not long at all) and giving yourself the best possible chance to find meaningful work off the stage.

Rachel is living proof that you can build a full life on your terms, within the dance world and beyond.

So, what do you think? Are we finally done telling dancers that they shouldn’t have a backup plan?

You’ve booked your dream job and you’re living the life so many people would envy! So why do you feel stuck?

Let’s talk about “The Golden Handcuffs” and how it might be keeping you stuck in a dance career that’s “good enough” but can’t last forever.

What are “The Golden Handcuffs”?

Essentially, the euphemism known as “The Golden Handcuffs” came from the corporate world, where high pay and good benefits keep people stuck in dead-end jobs.

It feels impossible to let go of the perks even when you know this job isn’t going to lead anywhere.

For professional dancers, this can show up a little differently (and the feeling of getting stuck can be more subtle).

In dance, the “Golden Handcuffs” might look like:

• Cruise ship contracts that just keep coming, but prevent you from building a home base
• Room and board paid for on a national Broadway tour, but a looming contract end date
• A comfortable theme park job that pays ok, but you’re still more or less living paycheck to paycheck

So why is it so hard to let go of these chains?

Well, there’s a lot to it if you decide to change careers.

You might feel like you’re letting down your parents and teachers who put so much into your training. Or like you’re letting down your past self.

You might feel guilty for letting go of even any semblance of financial responsibility.

You might also take a hit to your ego by giving up any prestige you’ve earned from dancing on Broadway or for Cirque du Soliel.

Plus, you’re living the dream and what if nothing better comes along?!

These are all valid fears and make it difficult to escape from the grips of the “Golden Handcuffs”.

So, how do you break free?

First, you need to get really honest with yourself.

Are you staying in your dance job because you’re still super passionate about the show you’re doing and it feels really aligned?

Or, are you just stuck?

If it’s the latter, it’s time to start thinking about a pivot.

But it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. Don’t leave your dance career cold turkey. Start taking steps towards a career change after dance while you’re in the “Golden Handcuffs”.

What other industries have you always been interested in? Perhaps dabble in a few courses on the subject.

Does uncle Dave need help doing social media for his real estate business? Offer to help and build up a portfolio.

Seeing a bunch of remote freelancing jobs pop up on your LinkedIn? Start applying and even if you make pennies off the project, you could get your foot in the door with something great.

It’s also the perfect time to reach out to your network. So many of us former dancers are lurking in tech, real estate, publishing… everywhere. Reach out a find a mentor to help find your next steps.

Check out the Pivot for Dancers one-on-one mentorship program if you’re interested.

Again, you don’t have to walk away from dance at the drop of a hat. Just start to see what else is out there. You might be surprised!

Don’t get stuck in the “Golden Handcuffs” of your dance career.

Let go of good enough for something better. What do you think?

Recently, I had a chat with a fellow former pro dancer and something she said made me stop in my tracks.

“I don’t think I would look back and say, ‘Wow, I really miss doing that show.’

But I could look back and say, ‘Wow, I really missed out on life.’”

Mic drop.

This is exactly what I wish more professional dancers would stop and think about.

Sacrificing everything for the sake of their dance career could mean that they’re missing out on something more… missing out on life!

It wasn’t until I stepped into my new career that I truly realized what I was missing out on.

Weekends? Revolutionary!

Vacation days? Heck yes!

Paid sick days? Thank you!

Not to mention more time with my significant other, energy for hobbies and other interests, and fitness goals that have nothing to do with what I look like on stage.

When we become solely focused on pursuing dance, it’s easy to forget that there’s so much more to life.

Which begs the question… are dancers missing out on life?

To be fair, I don’t regret becoming a professional dancer. I do think it added more to my life than it took away (at least in my 20s).

I was traveling, performing, doing exactly what I wanted, and living my dreams. It was amazing.

But as I get older, my values changed and what’s most important to me now isn’t supported in the dance industry.

Health, relationships, family, money, stability… trying (and failing) to prioritize those things as a professional dancer proved that my dance career was no longer working.

So, as much as I’m grateful to say that I was a professional dancer, I do think I would’ve missed out on everything life has to offer if I kept holding onto a dream that was no longer working.

Because there’s a cost to every decision, right?

If I didn’t pursue dance, I might be asking, “What if?”. And I might not know what it’s like to really go for something. I could end up bitter and resentful. (Hello mid-life crisis).

But I also might own a home and have kids, be further along in a more stable career with more wealth and savings, and have a better understanding of myself and who I want to be.

The point is, there are pros and cons to every choice and all we can do is make the best decision we can based on who we are now… letting go of past choices if we’re no longer on the right path.

So what do you think? Are dancers missing out on life?

When I moved from the US to Australia in 2018, I didn’t fully realize that I was about to make a total career pivot. I was a professional dancer at the time but I’d been dabbling in freelance article and blog writing. I figured I’d build up this newfound side hustle while I figure out what dance gigs were around in Brisbane.

Long story short, there weren’t many dance opportunities and, frankly, I was burnt out. So, I took a much-needed break from my dance life. I just had no idea that my final bow in Vegas! The Show was the last time I’d take the stage as a professional. At least, for now.

Which leads me to my point.

Now, I dance as a hobby. Dancing in this way is something I haven’t done since I was a child. And boy, has it been rewarding.

—

As a professional, I was adamant that my career was not a hobby. But that doesn’t mean hobbies are a bad thing. In fact, I feel we could all use more hobbies these days. You know… things we do just for the sake of doing them. What a concept!

It seems like, in our fast-paced world, we’re always looking to turn our hobbies into side hustles or small businesses. But what if we did what we love just because?

This isn’t to suggest that professional dancers are hobbyists — at all! I strongly support the fact that dance is not a glorified hobby for professionals. They should be paid (of course) and paid a decent wage at that. It’s a difficult career path that doesn’t receive the respect it deserves. However, we’ll leave that rant for another article.

The point is, now that I see dance as more of a hobby, my relationship to the art form is drastically different than it was even just two years ago.

—

First of all, my feet aren’t sore and painful to the touch. And my body, overall, feels better than ever. That means, when I do dance, I can express myself more fully because, well, I’m not half injured and exhausted.

But the real change was in my mindset. When I dance now, I have nothing to prove. I watch others more. I listen to my body more. I enjoy the music more. I laugh at myself more.

Well, to be fair, I laughed at myself a lot as a pro, but I digress.

However, the real reason I think it feels different is that I take more notice of all the bad habits I’ve developed over the years.

I notice how much I compare myself to others in the room. I notice how much I wanted to be noticed, in any capacity. I notice the not-so-nice thoughts I’d have about my body.

After taking a step away from dance and then coming back to it, these bad habits were glaringly obvious. Before, it was just part of being a professional dancer. Now, they’re all things I can actively work on.

—

Last year, I started taking some of the open adult ballet classes offered by Queensland Ballet. These were a wonderful starting point to rethinking my relationship to dance and starting my transition from professional dancer to dancing as a hobby.

What really did it for me was watching the women in class who were in their 50s or 60s, maybe even older. And they were absolutely killing it!

It was so inspiring to see them dance for the sake of dance, showing up every single week. These women reminded me that dance can be a lifelong practice. We can dance just because and aim to get better for the sake of improvement.

These days, I also take open cabaret classes, taught by a friend of mine at a studio in the city. I go every so often and for slightly different reasons than I go to ballet. I’m not so much practicing anything when I take these classes. Instead, it’s more about the community and having fun.

No matter how far I “stray” from the dance scene, there’s always something comforting about a dance studio versus a ballet company. Especially living in a foreign country, it’s not often that I feel like a local in any given space. In a dance studio, however, I’m at home.

Plus, in these cabaret classes, I get to dance and laugh with some of the friends I’ve made here in Brisbane and dance in a style that I love. Not bad.

—

Still, I found that the bad habits I’d developed over the last decade were showing up loud and clear.

In ballet, I’d be thinking things like…

• Your feet don’t point like they used to.
• Wow, that was harder than I remember.
• Definitely don’t wear this leotard ever again.

In the cabaret classes, maybe it’d be…

• I should probably film myself and post it.
• Why didn’t I get chosen for the “select” group?
• Jeez, I must’ve messed up five times in that one.

With that being said, I’m also better at talking back to those thoughts. I’d counter with…

• Of course, this is hard. It’s ballet! That’s why I love it after all!
• No need to film the combo. I’m here to dance and enjoy, nothing more.
• Yea, I messed up. But it made me laugh and literally no one cares.

See. We’re getting there.

Taking the break allowed me to be more aware of my thoughts during dance classes and get to the root of some of these weird “issues” a lot of us dancers deal with. After all, art is truly the best way to learn about yourself and I’m so happy that dance is helping me find myself again.

—

When I’m dancing as a hobby, the pressure is off and I can truly dance for me. I even took a virtual class with Nick Palmquist via BDC in my living room a few times and sincerely cried with joy and love for dance, feeling both sad that I let this side of me go while I was a professional and relieved that I’ve finally found my way back to that dancing little girl.

I know. Pretty sappy, but it’s true!

So, as much as I would never say that dance careers are a glorified hobby, I hope that all professional dancers can find their way back to dancing for the sake of dance.

Today, I’m a proud dance hobbyist and movement lover. And that’s good enough for me.

Back in March when the world turned upside down, figuring out how to make a career pivot was on everyone’s mind — and if you were a professional dancer, the idea of pivoting might be even scarier than for most.

Still, no matter what industry you come from, we all kind of wanted answers about steps to take and moves to make.

But, the truth is, there isn’t a blueprint for what we’re all going through. We all have to navigate in the dark. But isn’t that always how life is? We’re all sort of making things up as we go.

So, instead of listing off the specifics that you’ll need to start your pivot, the real skills we should all be working on are the basic ones. Communication, emotional intelligence, problem-solving, open-mindedness, and flexibility.

To clarify, just because we’re talking about basics doesn’t mean that honing these skills is easy. They take work and practice and it’ll always be a work in progress.

And while, yes, these tips are geared toward professional dancers who want to change careers, surely these skills are beneficial in any industry!

Ok, enough rambling. Let’s get started.

Communication Skills

Communication skills will never go out of style. After all, we’re social creatures and as much as technology has taken over in recent decades, good communication skills still go a long way.

What I mean is, you need to know how to think, speak, and write clearly.

Most of us don’t actually think in a linear way. We let our thoughts run wild and by the end of it, we haven’t actually gotten any closer to figuring out what we want. And you can’t get what you want if you don’t know what that is.

The good news: writing and talking help us think. That’s why journaling is so popular and why we might vent to a friend when trying to figure out a lingering problem.

Once you’re clearer on what you want. The next stage is — you guessed it — communicating that to others. How can you explain your ideas into a simple, easy-to-understand way? It’s at the same time simple and very, very difficult.

There’s no shortcut for this (or for anything) so, you’ll need to practice your communication skills.

Was there drama during your last quarantine video project? How could you have handled it better?

Are you constantly arguing with your spouse while you’ve both been at home way more often? Figure out why and work on it.

Proper communication is arguably the most important skill you’ll need in any industry. No one wants a boss that shuts down when criticized and no one wants an employee that can’t set boundaries and communicate them.

Emotional Intelligence

If you’re a human, sorry but you’re super emotional. There’s nothing we can do about it. What takes skill is the ability to control those emotions.

While I’m not suggesting we all become zombies with no feelings. Not at all, actually. It’s ok to feel your emotions whenever they might come up. What’s not ok is exploding those feelings onto the nearest onlooker and expecting no repercussions.

The leader who holds it together in a crisis. The parent who refrains from screaming at their difficult toddler. The employee that clearly communicates their complaints without issuing blame or getting embarrassingly angry when things don’t go their way. That’s emotional intelligence.

You can probably already see how beneficial (and rare) these skills are. Get good at emotional intelligence and you’ll have a much easier time on your pivot journey.

Problem-Solving Skills

These days, employers aren’t necessarily looking for the most impressive resumes. They’re looking for problem-solvers. As you start to pivot, you not only need to have problem-solving skills, you need to know which problems you’re good at solving.

A good way to start thinking about this is by reflecting on what people typically come to you for.

Do your friends call you their personal therapist? Maybe you’re good at solving interpersonal problems. Are you constantly praised for your productivity? Perhaps you’re better than most at closing deals and finishing what you start.

Side note: You can’t always trust your friends. But it’s a good place to start.

Open-Mindedness

As dancers, we like to think of ourselves as open-minded. But are we really? Have you given yourself a chance to flourish in any other industry? Perhaps not.

There’s a myth in the dance world that if you take your eye off the prize, even for a moment, that there’s no way you’ll be successful. You have to put all your eggs in one basket and sacrifice everything for your “dream.”

Spoiler: That’s a lie.

So, with that out of the way, you can start to have a more open mind about your career. Start with these questions:

• Do I have to be in the arts to be creative?
• Am I my best self when pursuing a career in the dance industry?
• What if I protected dance as a passion and didn’t rely on it to make money?

Once you take a more open-minded approach to what it means to be a dancer, you might be surprised to find that there’s a big beautiful world out there that you closed yourself off from. It’s something you’ll need when starting your pivot.

Flexibility

To be honest, dancers are already pretty good at this. But, I’ll mention it anyway because it’s a skill that will really come in handy in your career pivot.

From mid-show reblocks to learning swing tracks, dancers are made to be flexible. Pursuing a dance career in the first place is all about flexibility. Things are constantly changing for us and we have to roll with the punches.

Oh, our show is closing in two months? Time to start sending out the reel.

Cool, got cut from yet another audition. Better work on my technique.

Wow, Broadway is closed?! I guess it’s time to work with that non-profit like I’ve been meaning to.

Perhaps we’re flexible because, as dancers, we’re used to rejection. It’s just part of the process. So, instead of fighting it, we accept the inevitable and move with it.

The dancers who have been able to pivot, even in spite of the current pandemic, are the ones who focus on what they can control (themselves), quit complaining, and adjust quickly to the change.

Of course, this is easier said than done. But you’re a dancer. You won’t have to look too far behind you to remember a time when you pushed through an unexpected change and came out on top. You got this.

What did I miss? What skills were a must-have for you in your career pivot?

So, as I came upon the anniversary of taking my last bow in Vegas! The Show, it seemed fitting to do a bit of reflection.

It’s pretty wild because I started dancing when I was three and, especially in my teenage years and while I danced professionally, any more than a few days off was odd. I’ve never gone a whole year without it for as long as I can remember.

I learned a lot in that first year and I continue to learn so much even today, and I couldn’t be more grateful for the insight. Here are some highlights.

I learned that I can survive without dance.

I had this weird notion that I would die without dance. I know — super dramatic but it’s honestly how I felt a lot of the time. I felt like I would see myself as a failure if I “gave up” on dance or went in a different direction. Or like I would be totally lost without it.

I’m here to tell you… it’s not that serious.

The truth is, some people do probably think that I’ve settled for less or they’re feeling sorry for me because I could’ve had this amazing career and it was only getting started.

Well, there’s no need for pity because, guess what — I did have an amazing career. I’m proud of what I achieved as a dancer. It’s the reason I am who I am. It’s also the reason I have what I have now.

It’s ok to change your mind or fall out of love with something if it’s no longer working for you. Not in a way that’s frivolous or driven by “grass is greener” syndrome. Instead, it’s more about being aware of your values and knowing when change is needed.

I was so afraid of not loving dance in the way I used to that I ended up almost resenting it. Now, I can love it in a new, healthier way. In a way that resonates more with who I am now.

I really did need to learn that I can say “no” to dancing and that I can survive without it.

I learned that I’m more than a dancer.

Stepping out of the identity of a dancer is still a work in progress. I haven’t fully figured out “who I am” without dance. But for real — asking, “Who am I?” is such a bogus question anyway.

There’s no need to be caught up in that. I’m just me. Period.

That doesn’t mean I should go around changing my identity whenever the wind blows. But it does mean that I should be identifying with my actions as a person more than with what I do for work or in my spare time.

The unsettling thing is that my identity was so firm as a dancer and I told myself that I could always rely on it. That dance would never “leave me.” Talk about a toxic thought process.

It’s problematic because I’ve had various friends get really sick or really injured, forcing them out of dance. Dance did “leave” some of them and it can mess you up. Not only that but if you decide you want to pursue other things, even if you’re not sick or injured, it’s this fearful thing that we’ll miss it too much or that we’ve put too much into it at this point.

Hello, sunk cost fallacy!

This notion weakens our strength as people and gives way too much importance to something that can be so fleeting — it’s a job and it’s a passion, but it’s not us.

There aren’t many other career paths that are so intertwined with our identities as they are in the entertainment industry. At least in my experience, I haven’t yet found a real estate agent that loses their sense of self when the market changes and they’re out of work.

Sure, change is hard for everyone, but others seem more able to be objective about the skills they have, make the best of it, and move on without a huge identity crisis at the same time.

Still, work/life balance is a tough one for many people and I found that for a while, doing something that I tied so closely to my identity as a job wasn’t doing much for my mental health.

Let’s just say, I’m glad to be well-aware that I’m a human before I’m a dancer and I feel a lot more balanced these days.

I learned the real reasons why I love dance.

I’ve always felt a little bit different to a lot of dancers. I never wanted to be the center of attention. I hated doing solos and loved big group numbers. I always danced in the way back on the carpet at conventions and never up front next to the stage. I don’t wear makeup much off-stage and I really had to put on a “watch me” persona at auditions in order to book jobs.

I don’t love dancing just so I can be on stage (although that can be really fun with the right people). At the end of the day, it’s not enough for me when the other boxes aren’t being ticked.

Basically, what many people think of as a stereotypical dancer — I didn’t fit the mold.

As a kid, I was the one my teacher would ask to help count the music when it was tricky. I was making mix CDs ripped from Limewire in my spare time and suggesting new songs for competition dances.

Dance was about the music.

As a teenager, I was the one in five ballet classes a week not because I wanted to be a ballerina (at all!) but because I was so interested in the basics and the discipline of it all. I just wanted to get better. I didn’t want to win. I wasn’t planning to do it professionally. I wanted to get better just because.

Dance was about being a better version of myself.

As a professional, I was the one listening to podcasts about Sammy Davis, Jr. because I didn’t know much about him and I was living in Vegas doing a show that featured him. I was also the one watching “All That Jazz” during rehearsals for my first ship contract to get the feel of “Bye Bye Love”. Granted, our choreographer suggested it, but I was so down.

Dance was about history and culture and community.

PS. Listen to the Hug Heard Round the World episode on Malcolm Gladwell’s Revisionist History podcast for some interesting history on Sammy Davis, Jr.

I’m definitely not the only dancer who does things like this, but being good at those things isn’t necessarily encouraged in order to be a professional dancer.

For a job, I don’t want to take a video of myself in class, I don’t want to bleach my hair every four months to stay bookable, and I don’t want to do gigs in between contracts where you’re just standing there looking pretty.

That’s not what dance is about for me. And I’ve learned that that’s ok.

Now, the fun part is building my life around what I actually do love about dance. It makes sense that now I’m writing about dance, researching its history, and going to see (socially distant) shows instead of chasing barely-paid gigs or worrying about my weight.

I learned to take more control of my life.

Feeling more in control of my life could be a byproduct of going freelance or it could be a byproduct of getting out of the entertainment industry. Most likely, it’s a bit of both.

When I was dancing, my life constantly felt like it was in other people’s hands. When it nears the end of a cruise ship contract, dancers are left wondering what’s next. A few weeks after auditions we refresh our emails, waiting to see who was cast. If a show closed, dancers are left scrambling and anxious.

Sure, this happens in other jobs, (again, COVID) but with such a limited number of dance jobs available in the first place, it seems to be an even bigger stressor.

Now, I choose when I wake up. I choose what work I take on. I choose how I spend my downtime. I choose what color hair to have. I choose how tan I am. The list goes on…

That’s not to say that it’s easy. In fact, in a lot of ways, my life is way harder than when I was dancing full-time. Let’s just say that when my alarm goes off, I’m the only one relying on me to get going. I definitely took for granted how motivating a call time can be.

I might’ve had a better time in the dance world (not saying that I had a bad time at all!) if I would’ve taken more responsibility for my situations. Instead, I often felt bitter and confused.

Instead of asking, why did she get booked for Grinchmas over me? I could’ve said, she probably sings way better than me so let’s invest in some singing lessons.

Or instead of getting pissed off that most jobs are more about looks than about technique, I could’ve accepted that fact and focused on what I could control, and nothing more. I probably would have been less worried that I wasn’t skinny enough or pretty enough and stopped being such a warrior for “real dancing”. It’s something that’s never going to change and that’s fine.

Again, in some ways, life is easier when you don’t take responsibility for anything and blame “the industry” or some other external factor for your unhappiness. But I’m willing to take the more difficult route since I’ve learned that it’s far more rewarding to take responsibility for your life than to point the finger.

For some reason, it took really removing myself from the dance world to see that I was the one driving myself crazy.

I learned that I have FOMO, but not for long.

FOMO: Fear of Missing Out

I was incredibly lucky that in my dance career I was able to experience a variety of lifestyles.

For a long time, I had a full-time dance contract and led a “normal” life. I was also dancing part-time while finishing my degree. I did gigs here and there. I danced on cruise ships. I was a showgirl in Vegas. I’ve been a dance captain. I’ve had various survival jobs while auditioning… you get the idea.

I booked two of my dream jobs (even if I had to turn one down to do the other) and I made it far enough in major auditions that I felt confident in my skills. But you better believe I’ve also been rejected from so many auditions that I wouldn’t even be able to keep track if I tried.

What I’m trying to say is, I’m lucky to have gotten the full dancer experience in many different ways.

Still, I do miss performing. I see friends in photos on stage in fun costumes and start to feel a tiny bit of FOMO. It was truly a blast when that was my life. But, I don’t miss the rest of it. And it only takes thinking about for 10 minutes to remember all the downsides.

At this point in my life, the cons outweigh the pros.

So, as much I’ve experienced some FOMO since leaving dance, I don’t have anything left to prove. Plus, I know that even the most “prestigious” jobs usually aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. I lived my dream, it was amazing, and now I’m ready to focus on the other aspects of life that are important to me.

Nowadays, I look at it this way: I’m lovingly nostalgic for my dance career, but I don’t have FOMO anymore. And frankly, I’m so glad I’ve been able to make that shift.

Am I done with dance forever? Of course not! I still do my best to be involved by writing about dance, reading about dance, and going to see live performances when I can. I take classes here and there and I’m not opposed to taking a dance opportunity if the right job presents itself.

I also always encourage young dancers to “go for it” in the professional sense. Pursuing dance was easily the most significant achievement of my life thus far. I don’t regret dancing professionally for a second!

But with that being said, if you’ve been in the industry for a while and you’re yearning for a change, you’re not alone. It’s totally fine to fall out of love with dance (or have a distaste for some aspects of the lifestyle it requires) and the nice thing is, you can come back to it anytime.

Maybe give it a try and see what happens.

For resources to help with your pivot away from dance, check out https://pivotfordancers.com/.

Realizing that I’m actually not great at self-care is one of those pills.

Since I’m with myself all day every day, it’s confronting. My flaws are shining through, loud and clear. Might as well take it as an opportunity to learn and grow, right?

I don’t always agree with “self-care best practices” like face masks and herbal tea to solve your problems (although I am a fan of both and enjoy them regularly). So I wanted to test out actionable ways to ground myself and truly take care.

Lately, self-care for me is about getting the basics right.

It’s clear when I’ve been slacking on the basics. I’m irritable, tired, unmotivated, anxious, and I’m not very good to those who rely on me. I play the blame game and it’s just not fun for anyone.

Of course, it’s going to happen now and then, but it shouldn’t be a regular pattern. Yet, I can find myself in a constant cycle of burnout, then reset. So, why weren’t my resets actually resetting me?

I found it it’s because I wasn’t getting the basics right.

The best strategy is for me to take responsibility for myself. In a nutshell, I need to manage myself because no one can or should do it for me.

In other words:

“If you can’t love yourself, how in the hell are you going to love somebody else? Can I get an amen?!”

Thanks, RuPaul.

So, here’s what I’ve been focusing on while working from home to get myself back to basics and create reliable habits that I can turn to when I start feeling burned out or anxious or grumpy (or a gnarly combination of all three).

Drink water.

At the moment, I use a 1.5L water bottle and my goal is to drink two of them a day. It doesn’t always happen and I don’t think there’s a magic number when it comes to how much water we should be drinking.

Depending on how physically active you were, how hot it was outside, or how much coffee you’ve had (guilty) the amount of water you’ll need will change. So yes, my goal is two bottles-worth but I really just aim for clear pee.

Seems to work.

Eat three meals.

For a while there, I sucked at eating. Weird because I love food. And I work from home so it really shouldn’t be that hard to make sure I’m nourishing myself. The kitchen is right there!

But sometimes, I’d put this pressure on myself to make something super healthy and nutritious. So, when I didn’t have the “right” ingredients or I didn’t know what to make, I’d just snack throughout the day without having anything proper until dinner came around.

No wonder I was grumpy with a headache…

The point is to just eat something filling. It doesn’t have to be the healthiest thing in the world or the most well-prepared. It just has to have substance.

It’s still a work in progress but if I can get three good meals a day then I already have a much better chance of feeling good.

Move.

This has been a newer challenge for me.

Since I was three years old, I was in dance classes after school and, ever since, it was easy to stay active. I was either dancing in college or dancing for my job. I did go to the gym a lot while I was performing on cruise ships but for the most part, I didn’t have to try too hard to make sure I was moving my body.

Once I started working from home as a freelance writer full-time, I would barely ever break a sweat. Moving my body was an area I neglected hardcore and it became blatantly obvious that staying still is not an option.

These days, I’m conscious about taking it slow. After all, this whole thing is in an effort to avoid burnout, so if I take on too much, it defeats the purpose. I love yoga and have started to be more consistent with doing it every day.

Yoga with Adriene on YouTube has been great for me and I’ve used the Yoga Studio app by Gaiam in the past, which I’d also recommend. Even just 20 minutes of yoga each day does a lot for my mindset and my body.

Communicate.

Ok — this one is the hardest one. Yet, the most important.

It takes a conscious effort to check in with myself and with those who rely on me. After all, noticing how I’m feeling and recognizing what I need is the only way I can decide how to act on it. And it’s definitely a skill that I put on the back burner and avoid practicing.

I’ll let the little things slide and keep everything to myself before my subconscious explodes and I can’t even explain why. Constantly checking in about the small things helps me identify what I’m feeling and why.

Then, it’s up to me to decide what I can do to solve the issues before they become overwhelming.

Feeling tired? Take a nap. Have a headache? Drink some water. Feeling grumpy? Take a walk. Feeling overwhelmed? Ask for help.

I watched a TED Talk that helped me with some communication tips. Using the whole idea of “I feel… I want…” has helped both internally and for when I communicate with others. Check it out if you also struggle with this sort of thing.

Complete a task.

Every day I make a to-do list and every day I try to tick everything off. I try to be flexible with myself because I’m just as much of a procrastinator as the best of ’em. All I know is I feel like a badass when I get everything done that I wanted to get done — so that’s the aim.

At the same time, I’m also guilty of being incredibly hard on myself. I can slip into comparing myself to others who I assume work so much harder than I do or I tell myself I’m lazy and that I don’t know what I’m doing. It really takes me out sometimes and that’s no fun either.

So, while I’m always aiming to complete my entire to-do list and feel like a badass, I also aim to be honest with myself when I need to take a break. We’re only human after all and it’s beneficial to get off my high horse and remember that.

Whether it’s doing the dishes, writing a blog, or practicing yoga, if I just do one productive thing each day, it makes me feel more like a winner. And chances are, once I get on a roll, I end up doing everything anyway.

Sometimes, you just have to start.

And it really doesn’t get much more basic than that.

Water, food, movement, communication, and getting sh*t done.

I certainly haven’t nailed any of these but it’s nice to always work on them. Knowing that all of these things help me avoid burnouts and explosions in order to be the best version of myself is pretty empowering, too.

It’s the best kind of self-care I’ve found so far but I’ll also probably do a face mask and drink some tea later. Can’t hurt.

What helps you bring back the basics? How do you survive working from home?