I’m a horrible dancer. You know that weird kid everyone hypes up when the homecoming dance is almost over? Yeah, that’s me. I’m the weird kid. As a child I loved dancing so much I twisted my ankle dancing for my little brother. I’d watch Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princess on repeat, mimicking their ballet as the film went along; I would create praise dances in my room or choreograph storylines to azonto songs. I used to play Just Dance so religiously that I once pretended to go to sleep so I could stay up all night playing, and boy did I get in trouble. However, as my middle school Drama teacher once told me, I have no rhythm. For someone who dances so often, I’m incapable of following a beat. But I dance anyway because it makes me happy. Being able to blast music and have a one man party is one of the best feelings in the world; it’s an escape. I can fill music with memories and sensations and even though I look like a fish out of water, I flop like nobody's watching. And the best part is there's no strings attached. Dancing puts me in a state of mind no other hobby can. I don't have to worry about who’s going to watch me perform or what message I need to convey to an audience. All I have to worry about is the weirdo dancing in the mirror. Dancing brings me joy.