I’d never been able to watch a cha-cha-cha or a rumba, but I was determined I was going to perform them. By Wendy Thomason, 58
Chatting to my daughter Laura, I made a confession.
‘I really want to learn to dance,’ I said.
‘Then go for it. There’s nothing you can’t do,
Mum,’ she insisted.
I’d recently been through treatment for breast cancer, which had thankfully
been successful, but it had made me re-evaluate my life and think about doing some of the things I’d always wanted to try.
But there was another
thing that was going to make dancing more of a challenge. I was completely blind.
I’d been born with a condition called a coloboma, which meant parts of my eyes hadn’t formed properly.
As a child, I’d been
partially sighted, but over
the years my condition had deteriorated and I’d lost my sight completely in my 30s.
The condition also meant I’d had to have my eyes removed and wear prostheses.
It had been a difficult time, particularly as I was a single mum to my daughter Laura, who was just a teenager
at the time.
But together, we’d got through it, and Laura was always my biggest supporter.
So, with her encouragement,
I began ringing around to find a dance teacher.
As one after the other
made their excuses, I began to lose hope.
But then I phoned a lady called Diane, and she told
me, ‘Absolutely no problem.
I’ve worked with people
with other disabilities, and
we always find a way.’
Walking tentatively into
the dance hall, my tummy fluttered with nerves.
‘Hi, Wendy!’ Diane called.
I recognised her welcoming voice immediately and, sensing my fear, she put me at ease.
‘What would you like to get out of this?’ she asked.
‘I want to win medals!’ I replied.
‘Then that’s
what we’ll do,’ she said, laughing.
From the start, Diane only saw what I could do, not what I couldn’t, and that
felt so empowering.
After entering me for the International Dance Teachers’ Association (IDTA) Bronze award, she explained, ‘We need to master two ballroom and two Latin dances.’
She chose the waltz and
the quickstep in the ballroom category, and the cha-cha-cha and rumba for
the Latin.
I’d never even seen a rumba before, let alone danced one!
‘It’s all about the hip action,’ Diane said. ‘You need to do a figure of eight action.’
Seeing the look of confusion on my face, she took my finger and traced an eight shape on the table.
‘That’s the shape you need to make with your hips,’
she explained.
‘Now I get it!’ I said.
Each week, I’d meet Diane for an hour’s dance session, and it soon became clear that
I had a knack for it.
‘You’re amazing!’ she said.
As the weeks went on,
I grew in confidence as
I learnt the steps for each of the dances.
But I still found some of the techniques tricky.
Unable to watch any videos of professionals performing,
I would instead try to visualise the dance in
my mind’s eye from Diane’s description.
‘You’re getting there, keep going,’ Diane encouraged me
at each session.
'I don't just want to pass'
Soon after, in 2024,
Strictly Come Dancing was broadcast, and the blind comedian Chris McCausland went on to win the glitter
ball with his professional partner, Dianne Buswell.
It was such a boost to know viewers were starting to see what blind people were capable of.
But as exam day loomed,
I worried I wasn’t ready.
‘I don’t want to just pass
– I want to do really well,’
I told Diane.
‘Wendy, I know you can
do it,’ she replied.
On the morning of my exam, Laura came to my house in Derby to curl my hair and do my make-up. Then I put on my high-heeled dance shoes and a flowing floral dress.
‘You look beautiful, Mum,’ she told me. ‘Now go and smash it!’
Walking into the dance studio, I felt more nervous than ever as the examiner greeted us and told us to start.
We started out with the
cha-cha-cha to Sexbomb by Tom Jones, but I was shaking
so much we stumbled.
Taking a deep breath, we started again and nailed it.
It felt like an hour, but in reality each dance was only
a couple of minutes.
At the end, Diane and
I decided to head outside for a well-earned coffee.
‘How do you think it went?’ I asked her.
‘You were great!’ she said.
When the examiner finally appeared and handed Diane a sheet of paper, I was shaking in my dance shoes.
‘Oh, Wendy,’ she said, her voice cracking with emotion. ‘You got 92%!’
‘What? No!’ I screamed.
‘You passed with honours!’ Diane exclaimed.
I was over the moon and immediately called Laura.
‘I knew you could do it, Mum,’ she yelled down the phone, delighted.
I’m now aiming for my IDTA Silver award, which means I need to add a tango and a jive into the mix.
Diane believed in me and helped me achieve my dream. With her help, I know I can achieve anything.
I feel that I was born to dance – and nothing’s going to stop me now.
‘I don’t just want to pass’