I went home speechless

The day before the performance was incredibly long. I was on the go for more than 12 hours straight, and that included training at Goldendance with Marius and Martin, followed later that evening by the final rehearsal at Kalev Sports Hall, where we had to lock in the last details of the performance. During the daytime training, I felt great and had the sense that I was dancing with more confidence and maybe even more technical precision. But the disappointment I felt later at Kalev Sports Hall was big. The hall was already fully set. The lighting was stunning, chandeliers were hanging overhead, the floral arrangements were beautiful, and the dance arena was framed by VIP tables. Visually, it was all very impressive. But when it came to my performance with Marius, that was exactly where I realized how much a new space can throw my mind into confusion. It was Gerli’s responsibility to come up with our entrance so that it would match the music Marius had chosen. She suggested Joe Cocker’s “Unchain My Heart,” and her idea was that before the music really began, I would appear as if I were in chains, with two male dancers symbolically releasing me, after which Marius would arrive and we would begin our story. It was visually very striking, but during the rehearsal I suddenly felt just how tired my brain and body were. In some run-throughs, I had complete memory gaps. In the middle of the routine, I genuinely could not understand where I was in the choreography or which steps I was supposed to be doing. Because I have a visual memory, the fact that everything around me was different created real confusion in my head. In the training studio, I see completely different surroundings when I move through the choreography. At Kalev, everything was different. I went home more or less speechless, slept only five hours, and woke up at five in the morning full of stress and worry.

The nerves were that intense

At home, both the night before and on Saturday morning, I was honestly not a pleasant person to be around. The nerves were that intense. I felt like I needed to get myself as quickly as possible into an environment that would support me before the performance. So I went to my home club, Golden Club, did a bit of brisk walking, and slowly walked through the full sequence of steps in the studio. I needed to get back the feeling that my body knew what it was doing and that my mind would not get stuck in the confusion of the rehearsal. By 1:30 PM, I was already back at Kalev. Looking back now, the whole period leading up to the performance really did feel like a tightly wound clockwork routine. Home, training, work, home again, and in between that kindergarten, pre-school, after-school activities, and everything else life demanded from me at the same time. The final days before the performance were all about recovery. My last serious gym session with Margus Silbaum was already a week before the performance. The focus shifted fully to the dance, the rehearsals, and making sure both my body and my mind were ready at the right moment. I stayed active, kept doing extra evening steps, and tried to maintain my shape, but at the same time I knew very well that in those final days I could not just keep draining myself. At that stage, I had to trust the process more.

It probably took at least a bottle of hairspray

When I finally got to hair and makeup, I suddenly felt so much better. I was cheerful and felt good. It probably took at least a bottle of hairspray to create my hairstyle. We laughed that I had basically been given a proper helmet. Gerli and I had discussed both the hair and the makeup in advance so that everything would come together as the best possible whole. The makeup was done quickly and was bold enough for such a large performance arena. Competitive ballroom hairstyles, makeup, and dresses may look completely over the top from the outside, but on the dance floor all of that is exactly what is needed if you want it to stand out to the audience. Less is more definitely does not apply here. The dress had its own story too. The week before, I had joked that I did not want to look like a million dollars when I performed, but like five million. Then, at Monday’s dress fitting, Ele and Gerli suddenly had a completely new dress plan. The first version was left for training use, and during that final week we essentially started over from scratch. But I loved the new idea immediately and felt right away that it was the right direction. Dress fittings were happening almost every day, sewing work was intense, and Gerli was busy with the embellishments. It was clear that the whole team was fully committed and giving everything they had. Inside, I felt completely calm about it. I had put myself fully in their hands. It had to feel like my dress, something that suited my taste, fit my body in the best possible way, and was comfortable to move in. I needed to feel that everything was just right, because that gave me immediate confidence.

A funny moment happened on Saturday in the dressing room. Gerli was still working on the dress that very morning, sewing on the final embellishments, and the dress was only fully finished that same morning. I had not tried it on at all before Saturday. Since we were spending several hours in the dressing room waiting for the performance, at one point she asked me, “So, do you want to try the dress on?” I said I did not really see why, that I would just put it on when it was actually time to get dressed, because what if something still happened to it. Gerli said she had never had a client like me before, someone who was not already yelling during rehearsal, “What do you mean I cannot wear the dress already?” I told her I had simply chosen the best possible team, I had complete trust, and I knew it would all be perfect. After all, Ele, Gerli, and I had already been through multiple fittings together during the making of the dress base. What was there left to test? And besides, we all knew that backstage was not exactly the place to start making a third dress. The shoes, too, were still their own process. I had already been working on taming them for quite a while, but by that point I at least felt that everything finally had to come together. Everything has to look light, fun, and natural to the audience, but inside that there is an enormous amount of work, control, and effort. Cha-cha-cha has to look light and joyful. My physical strain must not show.

The chemistry between us had to be visible

One of the most important parts of this entire process for me was, of course, working with Marius. I went into our reunion feeling a pleasant kind of excitement. I felt much more worthy of being called a dancer, and I was definitely more confident than I had been at our first meeting. I believe that in the time between those two meetings, I had raised my level significantly, and I really hoped that would not go unnoticed by a world champion. What did I most want to get in place during those final rehearsals? Honestly, everything at once. I was hoping that my technique would come through as beautifully as possible. That there would not be too many bent knees or wide-set legs. That I would hold myself beautifully through the whole whirlwind of the dance. And of course I also hoped that I would not forget the steps. But I also knew that what carries the farthest is not just technical precision. It is our energy and our chemistry together. That is what gives a performance its real value. So the emotion had to be huge. Thankfully, I already felt in rehearsal that Marius as a partner was motivating, encouraging, friendly, open, and emotional. We had a really great connection. It felt completely possible that he could gently unlock my rather reserved nature. Martin has joked that I am a cold Nordic woman. Well, maybe not after all. Psychologically, Marius’s approach to me was very clever. I felt that he was happy with my skills. That gave me the courage to dance with more emotion and to create the expressions, joy, and lightness that cha-cha-cha needs. What he truly thought of me, I do not know. Maybe he was simply wise enough to understand that the only path to a strong performance was to build my confidence.

Now let’s go and do this

When the intro began and we had to move into position, I felt my heart rate rise immediately. I tried to take a few slow breaths in and out. Around me were Estonia’s top dancers. One of them was Frederik Roostfeldt, who has also been my partner before and whose presence always gives me confidence. Another was Ander Saago, who told me not to worry and said that dancers are always supportive of anyone who wants to dance. Martin stayed by my side right up until the stairs leading onto the floor and gave me, just through his presence, the feeling that everything was okay. In the dressing room, Marius and I had quietly run through the routine a couple of times like clockwork, and everything worked. Marius’s sunny, encouraging nature gave me even more courage. He never once doubted that I could do it. Martin looked us over and confirmed that we looked good. I still do not know what was going on in his mind or how much he was truly worrying about me, but I hope we will be able to sit down soon, analyze the full performance together, and make a plan for what comes next. I feel that I still have so much room to grow, because what was achieved now happened in a very short time. I am still such a beginner, really.

What will probably stay with me most vividly is the moment just before I turned to face the audience. That was the moment when I told myself: now we go, and I’m going to do this. Everything that had come before it — the confusion of the rehearsal, the short sleep, the stress of the morning, the hair, the makeup, the dress, the dressing room, the presence of my partner, the support of my coaches — all of it gathered into that single moment. And then I just had to go. During the performance, there was one surprise. The surprise is always that I am still capable of forgetting a part. This time, I successfully did all the figures I had previously made mistakes in, but during the actual performance I forgot one section fairly close to the end, a part I had never forgotten before. It seems that at some point, the brain simply gets tired. That is what makes this discipline both fascinating and merciless. One section you worry about ends up going perfectly, and then the mistake comes from somewhere you never expected it. But I kept going. When I look at the recordings now, of course I still see my mistakes. Sometimes I am very critical. Yes, I watch top dancers all the time and imagine that I can do the same. Of course I cannot. That is not realistic. And today, I feel that I need to give myself credit. Of course it could be much better. But considering all the circumstances, the fact that I started from zero less than a year ago, what mattered most to me was knowing that I had prepared to the absolute maximum of my abilities. I had already told myself beforehand that whatever happened, I knew I had given my maximum. And I think I need to acknowledge that and tell myself: well done.

Right after the performance, I felt something very specific. Sweat was pouring, my heart was racing, and the happiness was overwhelming. Especially because I could see joy in Martin’s eyes, in Gerli’s eyes, and in Marius’s eyes. That feeling — seeing that the people who had walked this road with you were happy — is incredibly powerful. I do not remember exactly what Marius said to me afterward. Something good. We were simply very happy and full of joy. Martin said, “Well done,” and I think there was definitely relief in him too. The happiness was huge. The audience response was warm as well. The applause was wonderful. I felt that my effort had been recognized and that I had brought people joy. Of course, Marius is a true star in the dance world, and a large part of the applause certainly belonged to him. On the way to the photo wall, he was stopped countless times by young fans who wanted selfies with him. But I absolutely felt the audience’s energy. I could feel that my effort had reached them.

That night was my trial by fire

When I look back on this entire intense journey, that night was, for me, a trial by fire. Before it all happened, I had thought that if I could not do it, I was not even sure whether I wanted to continue. If I failed that test, then maybe it would mean that I simply was not meant for this after all. But because I was more or less satisfied with myself, I now feel that I want to unlock my full potential. Maybe that is the greatest outcome of the entire night. Not just that one performance happened, but that something clearer was born inside me, the knowledge that I want to keep going. Throughout the whole process, what mattered most to me was always knowing that I had truly given my best. That I had not left anything undone that I could have done. That I had trained as much as I could and given the preparation my maximum. However it goes, if you have that inner peace, then you cannot accuse yourself of not having done enough.

I very much hope that what people saw in the audience gave them something more than just a dance performance. I hope my performance gave people inspiration, belief, and hope. The understanding that everything is possible if you truly want it and take steps toward it. I hope that someone finds the courage to begin something they have dreamed about. Anything that brings joy to our soul and our nature gives us strength to deal with the more difficult side of life. When I think of the Evelin who spoke this dream out loud at the BABOR summer event and made that promise to herself, I would simply say to her: go, girl! And what comes next? Today, writing this on Sunday, I am resting. Tomorrow I return to routine. Great achievements still come only through dedication.