I walk up the two stairs and pull open the creaky white door. As soon as I step in, the faint but distinct smell of feet hits me. I throw off my shoes in the lobby and run into the studio. My bag gets shoved into a cubby and a pair of dance shoes is thrown on. Dance. The studio. My second home. The place where I can be myself. Without dance, I would be lost. It would be as if I was stranded on an island all alone.

         At dance my friends become my family. My sisters. I can tell them anything, at anytime. I know they will always be there to give me advice when I need it, and laugh at my bad jokes. Our passion and love for dance overpowers any of our differences. Some of my best memories are with these girls. Early mornings at dance competitions. Red lipstick and fake eyelashes. Weird inside jokes that nobody else could ever understand. We have it all.

Dance has given me many things. Determination. A strong work ethic. Perseverance. But most importantly, dance has given me confidence. When I walk out onto a stage and dance, it feels like home. Although hundreds of people may be watching, it feels like I’m the only one in the room. I feel like a feather, lightly floating across the stage. When stress and anxiety make me feel like I’m drowning, dance is like coming up for a breath of fresh air. When I move, I feel invincible. Like I’m standing on the top of Mount Everest. Able to do anything.