Taking the Lead: Lessons From a Life in Motion by Derek Hough

son.”
    —SHIRLEY BALLAS
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7
    THE BALLAS BRAT PACK
    I T WAS THREE months before I went back home to Utah. That was the original plan: I would go abroad, have this great experience, then go home to Orem and get back to my life. That’s what my mom and dad had agreed to, and that’s what I had promised them.
    But in those three months abroad, so much happened. I grew up a lot. I developed a strong focus, discipline, and a desire to compete on a much higher level. That overrode everything else. There was no going back to the way things had been—I’d moved past all of that. I had forged a new identity for myself, and I was a part of a new family. It amazed me how quickly it all fell into place. London felt normal; Utah felt strange.
    The dust was settling from the divorce, and my dad especially wanted some semblance of normalcy back. He wanted to be a dad to me, and that was impossible to do with five thousand miles separating us. I pleaded with him to send me back.
    “Please,” I begged, “I have to go back to London. I’m doing so well there.” I could feel myself moving in a forward trajectory, and I was afraid if I came back to Utah, I’d stop progressing. I was ready to work and ready to achieve all the goals that had been set in front of me. In my mind, there was no other option.
    While my parents were mulling it over, a problem cropped up with Mark’s dance partner. The girl outgrew him—literally. All of a sudden, she was a head taller! So he needed someone new, and fast.
    “Hey, maybe you should dance with my sister Julianne!” I teased him. She was all of nine years old at the time, still studying at Center Stage. I could see the wheels turning in Shirley’s head as soon as the words came out of my mouth. Julianne was very talented, and she had a maturity to her dancing that was way beyond her years. She had done some competing before, even moved to Florida for a few weeks to work as a couple with a Russian kid.
    So Shirley arranged for a little tryout in Studio 6 at Center Stage. Mark and Julianne had good energy together. Shirley saw the potential and offered to take her to London with us.
    At first, neither Julianne nor my parents were too interested. But I was a good salesman: “I had a great time—you’ll love it!” I vouched for Shirley and Corky. At the end of the summer break, she relented—as did our mom and dad. Back we went, this time with Julianne in tow. It was a huge change for her, but just as I had, she adjusted quickly. She started at Italia Conti and tagged along with us on the train. She slipped into the regime of school, practice, living with the Ballases, and dancing with Mark. Friends would ask me if I minded having my best friend and sister compete against me. Strangely, I didn’t. I thought they were a good match, and most of the time—because they were nine and eleven, and I was twelve—we were in different age categories. But even when we did face off, there was no bad blood. It wasn’t about trying to be better than one or the other. It was about what we could bring to the table each day. We each had different strengths: What could we do to push and inspire each other? Was there some new step I picked up in practice? A new song that Mark heard that we could try out on the guitar and drums? We all shared the same goals and purpose, so it united us. I wanted them to win as much as I wanted it for myself. I went from being the fourth youngest in a family of five to the oldest brother of three. It was a big identity shift for me, and I was very protective of both of them.
    That said, Julianne was definitely a competitor—maybe more than even I was. She loved to brag about how she could beat me (for the record, it only happened once!). She had something to prove being the youngest, and I had something to prove as well: that my decision to stay in London was the right one. How could it not be? I had friends, I was in school (and staying there), I had a strong structure