TESS CARCALDI

If you know me, even just a little, you know that dance is, and always has been, a huge part of my life. My second home was my dance studio, and the people at my studio were, and still are, my second family. Heading off to college and leaving my studio was bittersweet, but I was lucky enough to continue dancing all throughout college.

And then this past April, I danced in what I thought was my last show ever. I was so distraught at the thought of never dancing again that during my final performance I started crying–no, sobbing right on stage in front of everybody. Don’t worry–it’s actually hilarious looking back.

They say you need three activities in life: one to make you money, one to keep you healthy, and one to keep you happy and sane. For me, dance had always been all three. I loved the feeling of my heart pounding in my chest after finishing a routine or a cardio-intense Zumba class, growing stronger with each move. I loved taking deep breaths and stretching after class, feeling every muscle and my mind relax. I loved passing on my passion to the little ones in pink tutus every Saturday in high school, and even to my peers in college. I loved the safe space the studio created for me to be myself and leave everything negative outside its doors. And most of all, I loved the friendships I had made.

And when I took my final bow in April and graduated from my final year of school ever, my entire life shifted dramatically. Not only was I no longer in school, the only thing I had known for the last 22 years, but I also no longer had dance classes multiple times a week. The strong, satisfying pounding in my chest from finally nailing a difficult routine was replaced with a dreadful beating from my growing anxiety about change. My breaths had grown shallow, and my muscles were constantly tense and my mind didn’t know what the word “relax” meant. I began isolating myself from friends and family because I didn’t have any passion anymore; I didn’t want to do anything except what I had to do, and that was go to work and come right home, and then do that five times a week. I no longer had a safe space where negativity was left outside, even for just a few hours; instead, the negativity followed me and pulled and pricked at me constantly. Needless to say, the first few months following graduation were some of my hardest.

But in August, just when my anxiety was hitting a peak, I received a Snapchat message from my dance teacher telling me about a four-week contemporary class they were offering. Nearly around the same time, I also received a message from another dance teacher telling me about Zumba classes happening. I remembered all those wonderful feelings I used to feel: the strong pounding, the stretch and relaxation, the comfort, and the pure happiness. There was no doubt in my mind that this was the sign I needed: I HAD to take these classes.

And that was exactly what I needed. I felt happy again, I felt free of the anxiety that almost always controls my mind, and I could finally just let go again, even if it was just for an hour.

I never wanted those four weeks to end. I knew I couldn’t just take a four-week class and a few Zumba classes here and there. I knew I needed to do this weekly, maybe even multiple times a week. I needed to be a frequent flyer at my studio again because as unbelievable as it sounds, I would say I didn’t have any anxiety, or at least nothing even close in comparison to what I deal with now, in high school, and I owe that to hours upon hours in the studio.

But, if you also know me, you know I just graduated with a lot of debt and an entry-level position. I’m thankful for my job of course, but everyone knows entry-level doesn’t make the big bucks. Money is a sensitive area for me; I don’t like to spend. I never have. But I couldn’t stop thinking about that quote, about how we need three activities in life to make us money, keep us healthy, and keep us happy. I already had the job; but I didn’t enjoy boring treadmill workouts, and I definitely wasn’t happy. After a lot of consideration, I bit the bullet and signed up for a full year dance class–just like old times. I knew I had enough saved up and I could always make up the money again, but I could never get back the time I wasted being miserable.

So, one class turned into multiple Zumba classes and other fun classes like contemporary/modern and hip-hop. In Zumba, I could feel my heart pounding strong in my chest again, not from anxiety, but from pure adrenaline and joy. My body stretched and lengthened and relaxed in contemporary class, taking my mind on a journey to relaxation and freedom with it. And I was nothing but smiles and laughs in the dance studio. I finally felt like myself again, and it was because I had come home.

Dance obviously isn’t a cure for my anxiety, but it certainly helps. Life is easier knowing I have something that fills me up and keeps my heart healthy. And so, the story of this long saga about dance is that every penny is worth spending on your health and happiness. Investing in your health and happiness is the best thing you can do for yourself if you are feeling stuck in a rut like me or just can’t seem to get any relief from anxiety. I guarantee you that you will feel better physically, emotionally, and most importantly (for me, at least), mentally. You deserve more days of happiness than days of anxiety and sadness. Need to hear that again? You. Deserve. Happiness. If you’ve been needing a sign or a push to just say “Screw it!” and do what you know will make you healthy and happy, THIS IS YOUR SIGN OR YOUR PUSH. Go do it!

And to my two dance teachers who randomly reached out to me about dance classes: for me, those two messages were two of the biggest blessings at a difficult time in my life. I am so grateful you both happened to message me and to give me the push I needed back into happiness. 🙂