solo.

My knees are weak, arms are heavy. There's no vomit on my sweater. I haven't had Mom's spaghetti in months (she lives three thousand miles away).

I'm nervous, but on the surface I look calm and ready.

At least, that's what everyone told me. 

The music fades, and mine comes on. Time is up. It's my turn. 

As a dancer, I've been performing for audiences made up of my friends in the living room to sold-out theatres in downtown Toronto. 

The characters and costumes I've worn and portrayed have ranged from a two-stepping cowgirl to debutante to a dancing Christmas tree. 

I would have said performing the solo part in the modern duet "No More Strangers" would have been one of the hardest things I had done in my life. There was no music - only the noise of breaking glass, an alarm clock and a chainsaw for seven minutes. Oh, and I was wearing pointe shoes. 

I got through that, and I was only 16. 

Now, I'm performing in an intimate cabaret show, with my three very good girlfriends by my side. We each have a self-choreographed solo, which is my first with this new dance group in Toronto. For whatever reason, I was nervous beyond belief. 

As my music started, I walked out and saw a few of my friends, two of my Artistic Directors, my booking agent and a few of the dancers that I idolize sitting in the front row. 

I turned around to strike my starting pose, I was face-to-face with the runner up from So You Think You Can Dance Canada. 

So...no pressure right now right? 

I don't know if it was the lights, the atmosphere, the music or what it was, but I lost myself completely in the dance. All those faces that intimidated me seconds before washed away from my mind when I started to move. 

My solo also started to drift away, and I found myself reacting more to the people and placement of props around me in the live performance. 

Sometimes, it's not so much about sticking to the routine (in solo work that is). Sometimes, it's running with the pace that's set. 

In so many ways, I found myself in this solo as well. 

From that point on, I realized I wasn't afraid anymore. Of course, there is judgement in every medium or art, and it's subjective. I know someone in the audience probably didn't like my music, or my dancing or hey, even my hair. Well, that's okay. 

In this moment, my greatest critic was finally satisfied. I know in my heart of hearts, that if I can get through that, I can get through anything. 

Just a thought.