Editor’s Note: The following essay is one of five winning submissions selected for the 2026 Showstopper Day Essay Contest. In her essay, “Standing Outside in My Ivory Leotard with Pink Accents,” Ella Beharry responds to the prompt, “What dance skill has challenged you the most? What lesson did it teach you?” Ella’s essay focuses on what it means to let go, improvise a dance, and see what can be learn from breaking free of strict choreography.
Improvisation has been the most challenging skill for me as a dancer, both mentally and emotionally. While I have spent years training in technique, learning choreography, and performing structured pieces, improvisation has always felt like stepping into unfamiliar territory without a safety net. I have struggled with confidence in those moments, especially when I am expected to create movement on the spot. Instead of feeling freedom, I often feel pressure, like there is a right way to be creative and I am not meeting it. Because of that, improvisation has never come naturally to me, and for a long time, I genuinely disliked it.
This was especially evident at dance conventions. Whenever improv classes or freestyle circles were announced, I would immediately feel anxious. I remember standing in a room full of incredibly talented dancers, watching them step into the center and move so effortlessly, expressing themselves without hesitation. Meanwhile, I would stay on the edges, hoping I would not be called out or asked to participate. The idea of being watched while making up movement in real time felt overwhelming. I hated the vulnerability of it, the feeling that I had nothing to hide behind, no choreography to rely on, no counts to follow. At conventions, improv did not feel exciting or inspiring to me. It felt intimidating and exposing. I associated it with discomfort, and for a while, I avoided engaging in it as much as possible.
A big part of this struggle comes from my lack of confidence in my own creativity. I have always been someone who likes structure and clarity, knowing exactly what is expected and how to execute it well. Improvisation, on the other hand, requires trust in your instincts and a willingness to explore without overthinking. For me, that was difficult. I would second-guess every movement, wondering if it looked awkward or did not make sense. Instead of letting go, I would get stuck in my head, which made it even harder to move naturally. I also felt like I was being compared to others, especially in environments like conventions where so many dancers seem effortlessly expressive. That comparison only made my confidence drop even more.
Despite how much I disliked it, improvisation ended up teaching me one of the most important lessons in my dance journey. Growth does not happen in comfort. For a long time, I stayed in the areas of dance where I felt strong, learning choreography quickly, performing with precision, and focusing on technique. But avoiding improv did not make me a better dancer. It just limited me. Eventually, I realized that if I wanted to grow, I had to face the things that made me uncomfortable, even if I did not enjoy them.
Through continued exposure to improvisation, I slowly began to shift my mindset. I started to understand that there is not a right or wrong way to improvise. It is not about impressing others or being the most creative person in the room. It is about being authentic and present in the moment. That realization took some of the pressure off. I began focusing less on how I looked and more on how the movement felt. Even though it did not immediately become easy, it became more manageable.
Improvisation also taught me to trust myself. As dancers, we spend so much time being told what to do, what steps to perform, how to execute them, and how to present ourselves. Improv is one of the few times where that control is handed back to us. At first, that freedom felt overwhelming, but over time, I have started to see it as an opportunity. It has allowed me to explore my own style, discover new ways of moving, and connect more deeply with music. I have learned that my ideas do not have to look like anyone else’s to be valid.
Another important lesson improvisation has taught me is the value of vulnerability. Stepping into an improv circle or simply allowing myself to move freely in front of others requires a level of openness that I was not used to. It forced me to let go of the fear of judgment and accept that not every moment will look perfect, and that is okay. In fact, those imperfect moments are often where the most growth happens. Learning to embrace that vulnerability has not only made me a stronger dancer but has also helped me grow as a person.
Even now, improvisation is still something I find challenging. I would not say it is my favorite part of dance, and I still feel nervous in certain situations, especially in high-pressure environments like conventions. However, my perspective has changed. Instead of avoiding it completely, I try to approach it with a willingness to learn and improve. I recognize that the discomfort I feel is part of the process, not something to run away from.
In the end, improvisation has pushed me out of my comfort zone more than any other aspect of dance. It has challenged my confidence, tested my creativity, and forced me to confront my fear of vulnerability. But because of that, it has also helped me grow in ways that structured choreography never could. Even though I once hated it, especially during those intimidating convention moments, it has become an essential part of my development as a dancer.