Melissa Kutsche: Returning to Dance

Did you think of yourself as a creative kid? What does creativity look like for you these days?

 I didn’t consider myself creative because I associated creativity with things like arts & crafts, drawing, painting, or scrapbooking. In art class, I wanted to make my projects look just like the teacher’s example or mimic some famous piece of art. It reminds me of a moment in Little Women (at least the Winona Ryder/Christian Bale movie version) when Laurie tells Amy that her work isn’t art, just copies of someone else’s genius. I never felt free when it came to art, only a desire to make things the “right” or “best” way, which was limiting. I think I wanted to be creative, but I feared it; I didn’t know how to push past perfectionism. Even in dance, I always wanted to nail the choreography exactly as it was taught. Although I can’t say I’ve ever fully shaken my perfectionist tendencies, eventually, I realized that I was a better dancer when I allowed myself to be loose and add my own flavor.

Growing up, I felt a constant pull in two directions: First, toward creativity. I loved to dance, sing, and write. I wrote stories in Lisa Frank notebooks and spent hours choreographing dances in my room. I loved to perform for family and friends, and eventually on stage. Second, toward science. I loved biology, and at one time hoped to study genetics and pursue a career in medicine. I never knew how to reconcile what felt like mutually exclusive sides of myself. I was taught that creative pursuits weren’t the practical choice when it came to career plans, but I never felt as passionate about medicine (or business or law or any other more traditional field) as I did about what I considered “artsy fartsy.” For a long time, I thought creativity was a distinct path. It took me until later in adulthood to consider myself a creative person and see how creativity can permeate all aspects of life, that it isn’t something that has to be separated from other parts of the self.

I didn’t pursue a career in science or medicine, and I think this has been a gift in the sense that it’s allowed me to still find joy and fun in these interests and hobbies. I can dance because it makes me happy and without the stress of being in-between jobs or the worry that my aging body is going to affect my career prospects. I can write without the pressure of needing to write to pay the bills.

How did motherhood change your creative practice? 

Initially, motherhood made a creative practice of any kind feel impossible. I struggled to fit dance classes into my sleep-deprived existence. I felt the need to sleep or use any free time I had for productivity: cleaning the house, organizing the baby’s clothes, meal prep–anything but writing or music. I had sold my guitar. I truly lacked an outlet for self-expression, although as my kids got older and we added to our family, I noticed that my creative expression simply looked different: making up games, doing silly voices while reading bedtime stories, writing songs about brushing teeth and going potty. It wasn’t necessarily a practice, but it was a way for me to infuse a desire to be creative into my daily life as a stay-at-home parent with young children. 

When my daughter began dance class at three years old, I decided it was time for me to dance again, too. It happened around the same time that I started writing about motherhood. Dance class made me feel connected to a part of myself I’d always loved, and I have done my best since then not to go too long without it.

Returning to dance reminded me how important it was to have hobbies, passions, and creative outlets. Around that same time, I vividly remember reading an essay on Literary Mama and thinking, “I could do that.” And not only that I could, but that I wanted to. I wanted to meet the challenge of capturing the complexity of this new role of parent and to share with others who might feel like I did—humbled, overjoyed, lost, and amazed—every day. Motherhood is what keeps my creative practice in the balance; it is both the limiting factor when it comes to time, and one of the main forces behind why I continue to create.

When do you feel most creative? 

I’m a huge night owl! I would stay up until 1 or 2 a.m. every night if I could do it without consequences; it’s when I feel most alive and can get in a good flow. Listening to music always makes me feel creative as well. It inspires me to sing and dance, play with harmonies, and parody lyrics. When I was a kid I got in trouble for tap dancing underneath my desk, and as an adult I still find myself shuffling around the house all day long. I love the way that different styles of music can inspire movement, unearth memories, and affect moods. Being outdoors is another way I fuel creativity. I love taking time to explore new landscapes and letting my mind wander along with my feet.

Who would you love to collaborate with? What’s a dream project for you?

Oh gosh…how about writing a show with Lin-Manuel Miranda? Or writing a novel that catches Reese Witherspoon’s eye and producing it together (maybe I need to start writing fiction first)? I’m laughing at myself, remembering teenage Melissa fantasizing about being a dancer on tour with some of my favorite pop stars. I don't think my grown-up dream projects are really all that different, ha! 

What do you hope your kids will learn about creativity from you?

I hope my kids will learn that there’s no age limit on a creative life. I hope they will notice, or at least look back and see, that I made creativity a priority; that creativity is important whether practical or not. I also hope my kids will learn that creativity doesn’t have to look like painting or crafting (although it can). I want them to learn that creativity is more about how we live than what we do.

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Melissa is a writer, bookworm, and lifelong dancer. She loves bookstores, afternoon lattes, and spontaneous dance parties. Melissa lives in Michigan with her husband and their three kids (ages 9, 7, and 3). You can read more of Melissa’s writing on her website, on Instagram, and in this piece about finding time for creativity in the margins of motherhood.

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Hi! I’m Heidi. Writer. Editor. Mother. I’m interviewing 100 creative mothers, because I believe the more we see other mothers making beauty and meaning in small moments, the more we will be inspired to make our own kind of art, whatever that may look like during this intense season of life. Support the project by sharing with a friend.