I’ve always had a passion for dance. As early as three years old, I was already trying to mimic the graceful Clara in Barbie in the Nutcracker. In fact, it was this movie that made me want to join a ballet school. The first time I stepped into a studio, I knew that it was the place to be. The rest was history.

I danced for fourteen years straight. On top of ballet, I also joined dance clubs and cheer competitions along the way. Of course, I had to balance my commitments—while easier said than done, I managed. I’d have school in the day, training in the afternoon, and ballet classes at night. Sure, I’d pass out the moment I hit the bed, but it was worth it. Nothing compared to the feeling of performing after months of preparation and rehearsals.

Since dance became part of my identity, nothing felt more heartbreaking than giving it up when I entered Ateneo. College-level academics were an entirely different ball game. To make matters worse, my course was heavy on mathematics. When I failed my first math long test, my parents sat me down and gave me a talk about my “priorities.”

After that, I decided to quit dance entirely in my first year. I knew I needed the extra hours to make up for my grades—hours spent away from the studio. Even if I helped in making dances for the occasional org event, it still didn’t feel the same. In some lazy afternoons, I’d even feel a sense of emptiness, knowing I didn’t have any rehearsals to look forward to anymore.

However, as rusty as I was, I recently had the opportunity to dance again. At first, I felt frustrated that my turns were fewer, my kicks were lower, and my technique was shabbier. Still, it felt so exciting to reignite my passion for dance. Not only was the community so welcoming, but they were also talented. They inspired me to get back into shape.

While I am thankful for my teammates’ patience, I began seeing dance as a burden. Training meant missed meetings, late study times, and less sleep. As a senior, I thought I could balance everything, but I eventually got burnt out. My performance in all of my commitments, including dance, started to drop until I wasn’t retained in the latter.

This was definitely a wake-up call that I had to give up dance (again). Pursuing what I loved wasn’t necessarily what was best for me at the time. I’d like to think that the lifestyle change was too sudden for me after four years without dance. In hindsight, letting go also brought good things into my life. It allowed me to be open to joining different orgs, exploring new hobbies, and meeting new people.

Still, I believe that being a dancer will always be part of who I am. I haven’t really let go, at least not completely. Maybe in the future, I can get in touch with it again, maybe make it a hobby. For the time being, whether it be while watching videos or remembering choreography, my passion for dance is still there—barely burning, but burning nonetheless.