I’m exhausted! My many weeks of endless dancing and press obligations piled on top of other business. And let’s not forget… mommy responsibilities! After seeing Kelly and Mya today in rehearsal, however, I realize that I have nothing whatsoever to complain about. They are beyond Dance Fever and into a Dance Trance, I would say. Their sweet personas are gone and they have become zombie-like competitors who see straight.
And I can’t even start to imagine what Donny must be feeling. That man is doing live shows in Vegas on stage Tuesday through Saturday with dance rehearsals during the day. He flies home to Utah on Saturday to attend church with the family on Sunday morning before flying into LA for blocking Sunday afternoon and the shows on Monday and Tuesday. Then back to Vegas to start again. I’m tired just writing about it!
I have spent the past few days catching up with some of my Class of Season 9, and I think Natalie and I are very much on the same page with our feelings about our experience. While we are both so thankful for our time on the show and wouldn’t take it back for the world, we keep replaying it over in our heads thinking of all the things we would have done differently.
This is the first time in my life I feel like I actually have regret, or maybe a better word would be “disappointment.” Natalie’s husband described it best by explaining that being a competitor on “Dancing With the Stars” is like someone giving you a guitar and teaching you to play it. It’s as if someone taught you how to play some of the best songs in the world in front of millions of people for a few weeks and then they took the guitar away and told you that you could never play the guitar again.
We are all so excited to get out on that floor one last time on Tuesday and “play our guitars” one last time. This time, the pressure is off. While 22 million people will be watching us all shake our groove thangs, we will not have paddles held high in judgment to determine if our best was good enough.
Other than the fact that I won’t have the chance to ever dance a competition quickstep to the song “Bare Necessities” in a mauve colored feather dress with crystals in my hair and a spray tan thicker than Donald Trump’s toupee, I will regret the fact that I didn’t take the time to enjoy the actual dances more. With the pressure so incredibly intense, and the physical and mental exhaustion that accompanies all that goes into both the dancing and the temporary politician that you become trying to solicit votes, I could barely remember to breathe (let alone just go out there and dance for myself).
Since I was a little girl on Long Island, NY, my dream was to be a dancer and move to music in a way that would entertain millions. On Tuesday, I will make that dream come true finally with my 40-second salsa. And I won’t let my fear or anyone else stop me this time so that I can truly enjoy this experience one last time before they take my “guitar” away forever.
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