March 31, 2025
Ever since I was two, I knew I was born to dance. I loved the stage, the lights, the costumes and mostly, performing for everyone. My passion deepened around 10 years old. I trained about 3-4 days a week and even auditioned for the Boston Ballet Summer Intensive. At the studio, I was known as the girl who was super flexible, doing all the weird and cool tricks in my dances.
At 16 years old, I was at the height of my dance career. I was having the time of my life while also figuring out if this was something I wanted to pursue more seriously.
One night I was in ballet class, and my hip started to hurt. It felt like a stabbing pain and when I lifted my leg or tried to put pressure on it, the pain increased. I tried to push through the pain, but at one point I could barely stand.
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For the next couple days, I was still in pain and couldn’t dance, so I decided to go to a sports medicine doctor. They took X-rays, did a mobility test, and asked if this had ever happened before. At the end of the appointment, they told me that everything seemed normal, but they wanted to do an MRI.
The day of my MRI, I was a nervous wreck because the procedure involved contrast injections, which required needles – a fear of mine. I remember laying on the hard table holding the nurse’s hand, trying to think of anything to distract me from the pain of this part of the procedure.
When I was done, it felt funny to walk because of the injections, and I had to be wheeled down to the MRI lab. It took about an hour and after it was done, my dad and I went home and anxiously waited for the results.
A couple of days later, I remember the phone ringing and panic shot up my spine. My dad answered and all I could hear was his short answers: “Yes,” “No” and “Okay.” He hung up the phone and told me that they wanted me to come in for a follow up appointment.
The day of, the hours felt never-ending. The doctor came in and had my X-rays up on the TV. He told me that I had severe hip dysplasia, a condition where the hip joint does not develop properly, resulting in an abnormal fit between the ball and socket of the hip. It was never fixed in my childhood, and that was the reason for the pain and hypermobility.
My socket was not holding the ball of my hip in, and this can lead to tearing of the labral and if that did happen, I would have to get major surgery. I remember asking “So what does this mean for dance?”
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He looked at me and said, “No dance for six to eight weeks and physical therapy three times a week for six months.”
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At that moment I thought my life was over. Looking back on it now, it was such a small moment in my dance career, but as someone who thought dance was what I wanted to do professionally, it felt like my life was falling apart.
Those six weeks were the most isolating. I was on crutches so the injury didn’t get worse, and I was having to go sit at rehearsals while all my friends were doing what I wished I could. It was truly the most disheartening situation.
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But it was also at that time that I figured out another passion of mine. I had decided that I didn’t want to risk losing dance forever, so dancing professionally was not in the cards for me, but I knew that I still loved performing, cameras and storytelling. This is when I found journalism.
During the six weeks I couldn’t be active, I used the time to write. For hours, I would write about different events happening in my town or of events happening globally. I also started a YouTube channel where I would post videos of myself doing day-to-day activities.
One day, I was in the car with my parents, and I said, “I have no idea what I want to do in college.”
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My dad immediately said, “Why don’t you go into communications.”
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I truly didn’t know what studying communications meant. I was totally clueless.
That night I went on my computer and researched everything to do with communication majors. Then it hit me. Reporter. I knew at that exact moment that journalism is what I wanted to do. I love storytelling, being on camera and writing. Ever since that day, I knew I had found my calling and what God planned for my life.
This experience taught me that everything truly happens for a reason, and I am a lot stronger than I think I am. I know that there are hard things in life and if one door closes, another will open. Dance was my life for 18 years and I still dance in college, but I’m grateful that I didn’t make it my whole life and risk losing it forever.