By @ShelbyBain
My name is Shelby Bain and I’m an actor and dancer in the Toronto area.
My journey into the arts began when I was four and my mother enrolled me in dance and gymnastics. Like most children, I was full of energy and curiosity; I couldn’t stop moving. My boundless energy was overwhelming for my parents, and enrolling me into every dance class, gymnastics class, and any sport available was their way of harnessing that endless energy.
After my very first chaines, dance had me hooked.
I was in love and at the age of 4, I was a competitive dancer. The first time I stepped out onto the stage, I knew that performing was my calling. I became addicted to the rush of being in front of an audience and the joy and thrill of dancing.
Dance has always remained constant in my life. It is my first love. Not only does it allow me to move my body in ways most people can’t, but dance makes me feel extraordinary. There really only is one word to describe dance: Magical. It encourages me to stay healthy and take care of my body. At a young age, I learned my body is an instrument. I needed to learn quickly how to take care of my own instrument in order to produce music with my feet; dance.
However, my relationship with dance hasn’t always been smooth sailing. “Competitive dance” can be exactly that; competitive. Sometimes it was the unhealthy kind- the kind where people are torn down instead of built up and where too much emphasis is placed on the outcome and not the process.
Towards the end of my competitive dance career, I seemed to have lost the reason as to why I even danced in the first place. I was dancing for the validation of my coaches, team/peers, parents, and for the awards and titles and trophies.
In order to escape the mental battle with dance, I needed to let go of the pressures of the competitive world and remember why I danced.
Dance is my oxygen. I wouldn’t be able to live without it.
I had to start dancing for me again, not for anyone else, not for a trophy or validation.
As soon as I accepted this, every performance was electric.
I stopped competitive dancing when I started high school. I landed a role on a Family Channel show called “The Next Step”. This show is a mock reality show that follows an elite group of dancers on their way to competitions. So… I didn’t quite escape the competitive dance but this time it was make believe for the cameras.
This show has been such a special experience. It has brought me around the world. I have been able to dance on tour with the show in many different countries in front of thousands of fans, on stage, doing what I love most. I can’t even begin to explain the feelings I had when I was half way across the world, performing with some of my cast mates.
That being said, it was difficult for me to fully indulge in these experiences as I struggled with my own insecurities. Starting the show at the age of 14, my body changed over the next 5 years of filming. My body transformed from a flat chested boxy looking pre-teen, to a curvy woman’s body. It was very difficult to watch my body change over the past 5 years- and some of the fans were not forgiving of me hitting puberty either. Some of the comments on social media directed at me regarding my body changes were not always kind.
I let the social media beauty standard get in my head, and I lost confidence completely.
I stopped training because I hated my body.
I hated the way it looked in a leotard.
I hated how big my thighs looked.
But in reality, my thighs are what help me dance.
They are the reason I can jump, turn, tumble, and split.
I felt stuck and knew that the only way to help me feel better about this was to dance, even if it meant putting on the leotard that I hated the way I looked in.
Dance has been and always will be my escape. Even if I am unhappy with the way I look, I can use dance as a tool to help me feel more comfortable in my own skin. If the show has taught me anything, it’s that I should never stop dancing. I have recently taken my dance training even further and feel more incredible and confident than ever.
I love my body, and I thank dance for that.