I came to L.A. 8 months ago just brimming with energy. I was charged up by love from Devin, having recovered fully from a pulled hamstring back in March 2019, and excited to train with California’s amazing dancers and noted choreographers.
In January/February 2019 I spent a month staying with Devin and would dance non-stop. Now, I thought, was my chance to make an impression on the trainers I’d scouted out.
My first two weeks living in LA went by fast. I was taking classes at multiple studios, going out for auditions and networking. But a twisted ankle during Nico O’Conner’s jazz funk class quickly put a hold on my joy.
At first I didn’t feel it, but when I got back home there was no doubt it was sprained. I stayed at home for 1-2 weeks, taped it up and did exercises. But worse than the pain was the discomfort of my thoughts.
I wanted–needed–to dance so badly, and yet I had to continually convince myself to be patient. I just moved here and would have plenty of time to dance after the healing process. Or at least that’s what I thought.
On February 13th I got into a car accident. I was hit on the driver’s side by a car running a red light (T-boned, as they call it here). Luckily my little sister (who was visiting from Denmark) and I were able to walk from the accident, but my body took the shock a little harder than my mind. My back tightened up, putting pressure on my rotator cuff, which no longer allowed my arm to rise higher than shoulder height.
Spending hours and hours at The Health Spot – Studio City – Home with a chiropractor and massage wasn’t ideal; that said, they made the experience as comfortable and safe as possible.
Just when I was ready to dance again and confident nothing could get worse: BOOM, the universe served a pandemic and closed all the dance studios.
I know that this pandemic has had serious consequences for a lot of people. Losing jobs, losing homes and some even losing family members. While I didn’t experience loss in that way, it nevertheless felt like I was now missing my creativity outlet.
The pandemic turned the plans I had upside down.
Knowing that I would have to wait for my working permit to get a job, I imagined spending most of my time in studios like Movement Lifestyle, Millennium, Tmilly, and Playground. These classes, I thought, would be a way to meet people and distract myself from homesickness. It wouldn’t be just training for me, but a second home. But with dance classes no longer an option, I had to seriously readjust my expectations.
To my surprise the quarantine was lifted briefly. Thankfully studios opened for a few weeks, although with limited capacity, mask requirements, and six feet of social distancing. Everyone was so excited to take “in-person” classes again, and I was too! Those first classes back were alive with positivity and gratitude from all the dancers. We couldn’t hug or touch, but we still felt connected. I doubt any dancer can take for granted a non-virtual class again.
On the other hand, online classes lower the performance anxiety, which might be healthy considering the competitive atmosphere. At the end of class it’s almost a ritual for teachers to pick the outstanding dancers or split us into groups. Competition is everywhere. And as fantastic as it is dancing alongside such talented and driven dancers, there’s an immense pressure. To master choreography. To perform at top level. To be noticed by the teacher.
One thing I’ve learned (especially with perfectionist tendencies) is that I need to know my limits. It’s great to aspire to keeping up with these dancers, but I can’t expect myself to be at 100% where I left off. I learned this the hard way. The third lesson back, without having warmed up enough, I jumped down in a split (because we were told to) and pulled my hamstring on my left leg (opposite of my earlier pulled hamstring).
Studios closed down again, and I’m sitting here nursing a new injury. I still feel like I haven’t discovered my full potential as a dancer. Clearly I need to get to know my body better.
Over here, in America, there’s another mindset about achievement (rent here is not cheap and dance jobs don’t hang on trees) and I guess I expected myself to just adapt effortlessly to that mindset.
Truth is, it takes time to not only encode it in your brain, but also to prepare your whole body for the enormous pressure of training. I’m working on bettering the connection between mind and body.
Note to myself (and you): Listen to your body!
Kys og kram,
Victoria Liv
