True Strength

*Inspired by Dancing with the Stars and Patrick Droney's song Talk about That.

My breathing comes out in shallow pants. My body shakes under the weight of the terror coursing in my blood. I want to run and freeze at the same time.

Adrian, my mentor and dance partner, comes up behind me. My fears seem to shrink back when he comes near, burned by his comfort, his praise, his concern. He wraps his arms around me and squeezes tight. I try to transfer some of his strength into me like a starving child. I know this choreography; it is ingrained into my very soul.

The host says our names and I tense up, because I know what is about to follow. The video and then the dance where people will finally see me my cracks.

Adrian turns me to face him and covers my ears, blocking everything to create this temporary world where it is just us. He leans his forehead against mine, not bothered by the makeup we are both wearing. Our eyes connect, while his are sure, mine are filled with anguish and fear. I can't do this. I can't show them the truth.

My family is known for their strength. My parents fled a war-torn country to the States and then fought their way to their success. Any of the scrapes and bruises, metaphorical or literal, are hidden underneath clothes and makeup. Sadness, heartbreak, pain, fear; you don't show them in public or else you are weak. Admitting that you are struggling with anything taints your strength.

So we don't talk about it.

When my sister was sexually assaulted one night, she didn't cry at all. Despite the loss of her innocence and the pain, her body and face screamed powerful. Even when she ended up pregnant afterward, she was the picture of grace and ferocity. But the night she found out she was carrying his baby, she sobbed. She doesn't know I heard her behind her closed bedroom door. But I didn't say anything, because it just became something else we swept under the rug. Nobody was outwardly outraged for her.

Nobody cried at my mother's funeral six months ago because she told us not to. When people toss racial slurs at us, we turn the other cheek and don't pay them any mind.

We don't talk about it and I am tired of it. But I am terrified to break the mold and Adrian knows it; we've talked in length about for the past week. He pulls me in and hugs me tight.

You are the strongest woman I know, Kara. Get it all out there through your dance. The anger, the heartbreak, the tears. Let it all out. I'll be here the whole time.

We break apart right and he guides me to the dance floor. Closer to what feels like my downfall, closer to what I am sure are my family's disapproving glances for admitting the truth. Adrian pulls my focus away from the storm of thoughts and pats his hand on the left side of his chest. Dance with your heart.

Then the music starts and for the first time since I started this competition, my heart bleeds.

I finally can tearfully hold my dad and tell him I'm sorry because Mom is gone. I can scream "why are people so cruel?" like I wanted to in the hospital after I found out what happened to my sister. The little child in me can mourn for growing up so fast. The teenager in her senior year can feel the pain of finding out her boyfriend cheated on her right before they left for prom.

At one point, during the climax of the song, a lot of dancers dressed in black reach out and grab me. They drag me away from Adrian, the first person I could finally be open with through conversations and dance. I know it is just for the dance, but it is like they are trying to force me back to closing myself off from every bad feeling.

No. I want to feel it all.

Adrian reaches out his hand like he is my salvation from the life I lived before. We grasp each other hands and he pulls. Don't worry, Kara. I'm here.

I break free from the chain of dancers like I am breaking free from my family's limited idea of strength and wrap myself around Adrian. Thank you for teaching me to feel everything. The good, the bad. He holds me close a second longer before he sets me down on my feet and walks away, putting me face to face with a prop of a gravestone.

The lyrics playing right now refers to making the best of your life because it is short; the dash between the dates. Who cares if you showed other emotions beside happiness and powerful?

My lips tremble as the tears fall, but I don't wipe them away. I allow my knees to give out as I fall to the ground and hold myself. Like we have practiced, Adrian places a gentle hand on my shoulder. I look up to him and he's crying too, making me feel a little less alone in the overwhelming onslaught of my emotions. I feel it too, Kara. I stand up to face him as I hear the next words and let them sink in.

Why is it so hard to say / That life can be a lot / And everyone's afraid?

The other darkly-cladded dancers encircle us as Adrian picks me up for our finale moment. I reach up beyond the glaring lights sky, reaching for what I know now is true strength. Surviving, no, living despite all the bad. Feeling it all and still getting up to face it every day.

The room is silent for a moment before the crowd stands up to and fills the space with immense applause and cheers. But I don't care about anyone except the man I am standing in front of right now.

Dad runs down to the ballroom floor, sobbing as hard as I am and hugs with such ferocity I'm scared I'm going to break. He only hugs like that when his pride can't be put into words. I don't care about what the judges or scores will say.

This is more than enough for me.

***

Dancing with the Stars is one my favorite competitive celebrity shows (along with Masked Singer). But one of my favorite dances that I look forward to each season is contemporary. It is such an emotional dance and most of the celebs seem to use this as a moment to be extremely vulnerable to the audience.

Some of my favorites:

Bindi Irwin (a tribute to her late father, Steve Irwin). It is well known Derek Hough made sure Bindi wouldn't see the video before the dance, probably so she wasn't overcome with emotion. This actually inspired a similar moment between Adrian and Kara before they start dancing.

Rashad Jennings (dedicated to the relationship with his father). Plus whoever sings Unconditional by Katy Perry has the most soulful singing voice. And that emotionally charged moment with his father at the end.

Jordan Fisher (dedicated to his adoptive parents). If you watch the dance closely you see that Jordan starts to get emotional about halfway through and occasionally looks at the direction of where his parents are seated. You can just feel the love throughout this whole performance.

Milo Manheim. (a Halloween's dance) So freaking haunting, especially the way Toxic by Britany Spears is sung. Both Milo and Whitney Carson become their characters and it is terrifying.

I usually cry for each and every one of these dances, and I am not ashamed to say I cried while writing this.

I felt Talk About That perfectly showcased Kara's desire to truly live, even if it meant addressing some of the darker parts of her parts. This is something I am struggling with every day, especially I was surrounded by people for so long who told me to hide some of my true emotions because of my race or because I would be viewed as weak. Now, even though it is a hard habit to break, I feel that showing your true emotions is pretty brave.