Me and Abby Lee

Life without dance is unimaginable, especially since dance has taken up such a large portion of my life thus far. Every little girl dreams of becoming a ballerina from the time they can twirl and tip toe, but very few actually set out to achieve this goal. Passionate, is how I would describe my love for ballet. Along with the training and pursuance of a professional dance career comes endless rehearsals, a variety of costumes, many performance opportunities, intense instructors with foreign accents often accompanying them, and loads of stories to tell.

Dance has allowed me to travel to a variety of incredible places and receive top training and exposure all over the world. I have had memorable experiences in Michigan, California, Miami, Dresden Germany, Moscow Russia, and New York City.

I had the opportunity to experience not only classical disciplinary ballet training, but a quick taste of the competition world as well. A completely different monster, the competition world is well known, and the drama that accompanies competition dance draws a vast audience.

For a very very short chapter of my life, I had the desire to be on the famous reality TV show Dance Moms. At the age of 13 my father and I flew to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to meet the one and only Abby lee Miller, well known and popular for her recent emergence, at the time, as a tough, strict, loud dance coach that turned little girls into stars.

My father and I planned every detail. He was my ticket in. On a show surrounding mama drama he would stand out as the only “dance dad”. He planned to tell the other mothers, he had no desire to dance and that I became a "prodigie" through my own hard work and passion for the art form.

When we arrived at the smaller, than on TV, dance studio there was a line extending and snaking through the compact parking lot full of buns and bouncy flamboyant ponytails. After a lot of waiting, we entered the studio’s double doors and TV film crews were invading what little personal space we had with their equipment and camera lenses.

A mom from Australia mistook my father, in his classy black suit, as security and I grinned with confidence in his intimidating character. A disposition that would add more life and animation to the already over dramatized series. There was no way all the girls from the parking lot could fit inside the Abby Lee Miller dance studios. I knew it was going to be a quick audition and dreams would be destroyed in seconds. We were all waiting on one woman. Small talk and fake smiles accompanied us through halls we all knew way too well from previously aired episodes.

There she was, bigger in real life than I had expected, and more intimidating than on film. The Abby Lee, welcoming and ushering little girls into the studio, that was already filled with heat and sweat. There were camera men by her side like bodyguards to a queen. She was the queen, and this was her kingdom.

During the audition, the producer told Abby to hurry up the audition process because time was money and the film crew was already working overtime, but Abby refused to let talent pass without her eyes seeing the potential.

I wiggled my way to the front of the room and stood directly by Abby’s side as she judged and cut auditioners with a stabbing of her finger in their faces and a stern “no” or “not good enough” remark. I logically arranged myself in the studio to assure that I would be on film.

The process was quick and I got all the details on the behind the scenes script and excitement. The girls from the show were pint size in real life. A size that wins them more first places and gold medals than someone taller but equivalent in age and talent might earn.

I was offered to stay and dance in Abby Lee Miller’s dance company but I already missed my disciplined less theatrical training at home. Reality TV wasn’t real at all. I stayed longer than all the other auditioners, was one of four dancers who remained to take a free class with some of the stars, and earned my right to speak with Abby herself. The cameras were gone and all that was left were bobby pins strewn and neglected on the carpets.

My dad approached the colossus of a woman and introduced himself with a giant embrace. Surprised, Abby, just as tall and massive as him, backed up and asked “do I know you?”. My dad chuckled and said “no, but you will”.