The Time I Thought My Life Was Over

• 5:00am-5:45am: Wake up & get ready

• 6:00am -6:50am: Attend church class

• 7:20am-2:45pm: School

• 3:15pm-5pm: Sports practice

• 5:30pm-9:30pm: Dance

• 9:45pm-10:30pm: Homework and get ready for bed

• 10:30pm-5:00am: Sleep
  

• Repeat

This was my schedule five days a week, roughly 180 days a year during the school year. In the summer, I allowed myself to sleep in a bit, but my days were filled with work instead of school, followed by dance in the late afternoons to evenings. I led a very busy life, especially as a high schooler. Packed schedules was my reality and dance was where I found my sanity. So when I was denied the ability to dance for four months my sophomore year of high school, I felt like a piece of my soul had been ripped out of my body.

The Peak of My Dance Journey

In March of 2016, I was at what felt like the height of my dance career. I was making vast improvements in my technical skills and discovering my style in profound ways. I was placed at the front of my dance formations as we prepared for our end-of-the-year recital, and I was excelling in the solo category at competitions. I was given the starring role of Dorothy in a Wizard of Oz dance production. That summer, I was to perform as an "All-Star" for Dupree Dance Convention Nationals in Chicago with other regionally selected dancers chosen for their skill and versatility.

Balancing Dance and Track

At the time, I was also competing in the track and field program at my school. I had practices after school three days a week and participated in track meets twice a week. I ran the 100m hurdles, 300m hurdles, 4x4 relay, and competed in the triple jump in the field events.

It was March 16th. My school was holding its annual Peoria Invitational where around 27 schools competed. My first event was the 100m hurdles, and they held two heats: one to weed out the slower runners and then the finals to determine the best running time. I qualified for the finals, but my foot was killing me. I decided to sit out my field event and rest before the final heat. The school medical trainer wrapped my foot and ankle with zeal, and I ran in the final. I qualified for the state invitational where I would compete with the best 100m runners in Arizona at the end of May. But there was just one problem.

At the conclusion of the race, I could hardly walk.

After the school trainer had a good look at me, she advised me to take the next three weeks off dance and track to give my injury time to heal. I was devastated. I could barely go a day without dance. Three weeks was incomprehensible!

During those three weeks, I went to the trainers every day after school for physical therapy. Towards the end of the three weeks, I wasn't making any improvements, and she advised me to see a sports doctor.

Several x-rays and MRIs later, my mom and I sat in a clinic room, waiting to hear the verdict.

A Devastating Diagnosis

"You have a broken bone in your foot," my doctor said. "It's in a place that has limited blood flow. Because of this, it will take a while to heal. I'm going to have to ask you to take three months off everything. You won't be able to walk on your foot at all for two months, and then the final month you can walk in a boot. Even after the three months, you're going to need to take it easy for a few weeks."

My heart sank as tears flooded down my face. All the things I was looking forward to, the experiences I was anticipating, were ripped out of my hands in a moment. I genuinely felt like my world was ending. Looking back, as an adult, it was a bit of a dramatic reaction. But in the moment, before retrospect, it was a devastating reveal. Dance was everything to me, and I couldn't imagine my life without it for three more months.

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Finding Strength in Adversity

As the school year ended and the days turned into summer, you could find me zooming around on my knee scooter, working the cashier position at the local public pool. I went to my dance recital in early June, where I had to watch my best friend fill my spot as the production lead, sit through the many dances I knew by heart, and hide tears of sadness as I mourned a missed opportunity to dance.

I remember the congregation leader of my church pulling me aside to talk about my situation. He gently reminded me that my suffering was only for a moment and encouraged me to find new opportunities in my misfortune.

No longer able to attend the many dance events I had planned due to my injury, I ended up being able to participate in camps and friend hangouts I would have normally missed. My knee scooter became a running joke at work that brought joy to my coworkers. After many years of jam-packed schedules and hectic routines, I was given an opportunity to reflect and be still.

Empathy Through Experience

Fast forward to being released and attending my first dance class as a fully repaired cripple, I recall stretching in class when the studio owner walked in. She was standing closely to a younger dancer whom I realized was operating crutches and sporting tear-stained cheeks with red eyes. The studio owner said, "Miss Rachel, I think our friend here needs a little advice."

I took her into the hall where she unloaded all of the same heartache, fears, and anxieties I had felt when I had broken my foot. She had broken her ankle, and there was no one who could empathize better than me. I relayed to her much of the same advice I was given, adding encouragement that there was light at the end of the tunnel, which I come to know with certainty. I can picture the young dancer, standing in the wings at a dance competition, crying silent tears as she watched her friends shine on stage in routines she should have been in. I would hold her tight, understanding her desire to support her team while her heart yearned to dance. If I had never had the experience I did, I would not have been able to be the person she needed at her time of despair.

Lessons Learned and Words of Encouragement

While this experience was one of the most difficult up to that point in my life, it was a vital life event that taught me valuable lessons. If you are a dancer who has experienced a similar trial, I commend you for your bravery and invite you to look for opportunities to use your newfound knowledge to help someone else. If you are a dancer who is currently experiencing this type of trajectory-altering news, know that you will get through it. There are lessons to learn, people to uplift, and profound strength to be found in this experience. When you come back, you will come back with stronger devotion and heightened work ethic that will set you apart. Keep heart and stay strong!

Share your experiences with me! I'd love to hear if you've experienced something similar and what got you through it.