Turning 30: From Dancer to Founder, and Everything In Between
Today I am turning 30. A big number. It feels like I am definitely entering a new chapter of my life, an exciting one. One that I have been looking forward to for a while now. One I am convinced will be my prime.
But also one where I felt the need to look back at the past years, in particular these past five years, where I turned from dancer to founder.
At the same time, I also feel quite nostalgic. Looking at the friends and family I have created, some longer, some more recent. I am happy to have such wonderful and supportive people around me. I am truly blessed with the relationships I’ve made for life.
Okey, enough of the feels, time to throw it back…
Five years ago, I sat in my living room, staring at an empty calendar. The world was in lockdown, theaters were closed, and for the first time in years, I wasn’t rehearsing, performing, or touring. I had just turned 25, and suddenly, the career I had poured everything into, dance, was on pause.
Back then, I wrote an article called “How the Pandemic Forced Me to Re-evaluate My Future.” I was a bit lost, but also very restless. I knew I needed a plan B, but I didn’t want to give up on who I was. Dance had been my whole world, and without it, I didn’t quite know who I was supposed to be.
As uncertain as my future felt, that moment 5 years ago was the beginning of everything that came next.
The Leap From Stage to Something New
What I didn’t realize at the time was that this “forced pause” was actually an invitation. A chance to reflect, to reimagine, to build.
It started small. Conversations with friends. Scribbles in a notebook. Questions like: Why do we as freelancers always struggle to navigate our careers? Why do we all feel so alone in it?
Those questions turned into Freelancer Talk, a podcast and platform where I started sharing stories, insights, and conversations about freelancing as an artist. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real. Every episode felt like sitting around a kitchen table, talking honestly about the ups and downs of building a career in the arts.
And slowly, something clicked. Freelancer Talk connected people, becoming a conversation starter and the seed of a bigger vision.
Building Lanced
By summer 2021, that vision had a name. Lanced.
I put out a co-founder call in October, and by November I had found Stavya. That’s when things became real. From an idea on paper, to a partnership, to actually starting to build.
It’s been four years of Lanced. Bootstrapped, late nights, countless iterations. A rollercoaster of highs and lows, from the excitement of onboarding our first companies, to the slow, grinding reality of fundraising, to the quiet victories of dancers getting real opportunities through what we’ve built.
And through it all, I’ve realized that my dance career wasn’t a closed chapter. It’s the heartbeat of everything I do. Lanced isn’t separate from that; it’s more like an extension of it.
What I’ve Learned in Five Years
Turning 30 has made me look back at the last five years in a way I never did at 25. And here’s what I’ve learned:
You don’t lose your passion. It transforms.
Dance is still part of me, but I no longer need the stage to feel like an artist. Creativity now shows up in how I build, connect, and tell stories.
Resilience isn’t loud. It’s quiet.
At 25, resilience meant forcing myself to keep hustling, to prove myself. Now I’ve learned that resilience is trust, trust that the path may shift, but I’ll adapt.
Growth takes patience.
I used to want everything fast. Success, recognition, security. But the best things I’ve built, friendships, Lanced, my sense of self, grew slowly. And that’s why they matter.
Failure isn’t final.
I’ve failed, many times. I’ve doubted myself, lost deals, hit walls. But every “failure” has been a teacher, shaping me in ways success never could.
Your story connects more than your success.
The moments that stick with people aren’t when I brag about achievements. They’re when I share the messy, honest truth. That’s when real connection happens. I feel like I’ve always done this tho, being 100% me, unapologetically, as real as it gets!
Surround yourself with the right people.
People who believe in your vision, who feel the same passion, who are willing to make the same sacrifices. People who challenge you, question you when needed, and keep you on your toes. Without that, the journey becomes impossible. With it, the impossible becomes achievable.
Where I Am Today
So, where does that leave me at 30?
I’m not the person I was at 25, restless, anxious, and looking for a backup plan. I’m not even the same person I was last year.
Today, I see myself as a bridge-builder. Between art and technology. Between dancers and companies. Between my younger self, who was scared of losing it all, and my current self, who knows that losing one thing can mean gaining another.
Lanced isn’t “done”, not even close. It’s still growing, still becoming. But I’m proud that it exists. I’m proud that thousands of dancers and dozens of companies now use what we’ve built. I’m proud that we’ve started to show that auditions can be fairer, clearer, more connected.
And personally? I feel more grounded. More anchored. More ready for what’s next.
What I Want for the Next Chapter
Turning 30 doesn’t mean I’ve got everything figured out. Far from it. But I know what I want to build towards:
For Lanced: To make it the place where dancers and artistic teams connect. Not just a tool, but a home for opportunities, fairness, and growth in the entertainment industry.
For myself: To keep creating, not only in business, but in writing, teaching, storytelling. To use my voice to empower others who feel stuck or unseen.
For the community: To prove that technology and culture don’t have to be opposites. That we can design tools that serve the people who make art, not replace them.
Closing
So here I am, at 30.
Not finished. Not perfect. Still figuring it out. But no longer afraid of the uncertainty of what comes next. I am full of passion and determination, driven by a mission: to make a meaningful impact on the lives around me. Whether that’s through helping a friend move, having late night calls with deep conversations, or building a company that supports people’s careers.
Because if the past five years have taught me anything, it’s this: the unexpected detours are often the real story. And this story — my story — is still just getting started.
Here’s to the next chapter.
PS: I also threw the wildest theme party ever for my birthday: Shrimp Cocktail. As you can see in the photo, I had fun. 🦐🍸
