Taking the Lead: Lessons From a Life in Motion
Read Taking the Lead: Lessons From a Life in Motion Online
Authors: Derek Hough
Tags: #Biography & Autobiography, #Dancer, #Nonfiction, #Retail
To all the people who have inspired, challenged, and supported me in my life. Thank you for your love and encouragement. You always remind me to believe in myself—the person I am and the person I want to be.
I
AM SO BLESSED
to have gotten to know Derek, and honored that he asked me to write the foreword for his book. He’s the most amazing person—not just a choreographer, dancer, and teacher, but an amazing human being. Spending so much quality time together confined in a dance studio when we did
Dancing with the Stars
Season 16, I really got to know him well. I cherish his friendship, and I admire him so much for his work ethic.
From the first time we met, I could see he was very passionate, and he brings that passion to everything he does. That resonates with the audiences both live and watching on TV at home. People build their entire schedules around being able to tune in and see Derek dance. I know I do! Millions have fallen in love with him, and it’s easy for me to understand why. He’s so generous with his heart and his spirit. Even if you don’t know him, you feel you can walk up to him on the street and strike up a conversation: “Hi, man! I’m a fan.” I will never forget how he would race out into the audience and pull people out onto the dance floor with him during our commercial breaks. The audience at home never sees this, but I got a front-row view. One time, there was this elderly lady in a wheelchair, and she told him that her greatest dream was to dance with him. So what did Derek do? He rolled her right out onto that stage and twirled her around. He gave her the dance of her life. She was so happy, you’d think Elvis had come back!
But that’s Derek. He’s a giver and he never stops giving. He’s a perfectionist, yes, but it’s because he wants you to be the best you can be. He never criticizes in a way that’s harsh or knocks you down. Instead, his corrections were building me up, week by week. That’s a great gift that he has: to see the strengths in someone and bring them out. He saw things in me I didn’t even know I was capable of. He never once showed up to a rehearsal with a prechoreographed routine. He built each dance around me—what I could do, and what he knew I
would
be able to do with a little practice. How many pep talks did he give me before we went out onstage? I know I would have been lost without him.
I’m so not surprised he wrote this book, because he’s all about inspiring and connecting with people. He is the most incredible motivator. My biggest fear doing
Dancing with the Stars
was disappointing him. In rehearsals, he’d seen me at my absolute best and my absolute worst. The audience hadn’t. He’d know if I gave it my all or not. I wanted so badly to give a great performance and make him proud.
He taught me so many things, but the ones that stick out are the lessons about getting out there and
doing
. I had huge anxiety when we first started, and he helped me wipe that word from my vocabulary. He gave my anxiety a name—Anxious Annie—and he told me I couldn’t play with her anymore! He also taught me how important it is to keep moving, and to maintain even today the same mobility I had when I was dancing. When I move, it’s going to help me both physically and mentally. And if I’m able to, there’s no excuse not to, except that I’m being lazy.
I think whatever the future holds for Derek, he will always be a part of something meaningful and that matters. There’s a big difference between being alive and living—and he’s the type of person who believes if you’re alive, then you should live to your fullest. I know that there is so much more he will bring to this world—and I can’t wait to see it.
—KELLIE PICKLER
I
’
M USED TO
leading on the dance floor. The music starts, and I take my partner’s hand, guiding her into position, controlling the flow of energy, directing the movement.
But when it comes to life, taking the lead isn’t so simple. It takes guts, but not the kind needed to jump out of an airplane from fourteen thousand feet or perform live in front of an audience of millions. Trust me, I’ve done both. It’s having the courage required to uncover the bigger picture. Where are you going and how will you get there? And most important, who will you become on your journey? Every mistake, every twist, turn, or total wipeout hands you an opportunity to learn and grow. Are you brave enough to take it?
I wasn’t. Honestly, the idea of writing a book about my life scared the hell out of me. I didn’t think I was ready to go there. It felt overwhelming—a lot of memories tangled up in emotions. I wasn’t sure the timing was right (I was competing in Seasons 17 and 18 of
Dancing with the Stars
) and I wasn’t convinced I knew what to say or how to say it. So I did what I do whenever I’m stuck on a dance and I don’t have a clue how to choreograph it. I break it down. I look at it, not as a whole, but as a series of steps that come together. Somehow, seeing each phase of my life this way brought it all into focus. The lessons became clear, the experiences came flooding back in vivid detail, and I felt empowered.
I think I’ve just begun stepping up and owning my life, and I have a long way to go and lots of things I want and need to accomplish. But at least I’m headed in the right direction. I’ve started seeing my journey as a work in progress—sometimes I’ve rocked it, sometimes I’ve stumbled or tripped over my own feet. But every move I’ve made has shaped me into the person I am today. I believe life isn’t about finding yourself, but creating yourself. My friend Tony Robbins asks, “What if life isn’t happening to us? What if it is happening
for
us?” I believe that when you seize control, you’re nobody’s doormat or punching bag anymore—not even you can stand in your own way (and I am harder on myself than anyone else is). You open yourself up to endless possibilities.
Not many people know that I was bullied as a kid. By bullied, I don’t mean teased or picked on or called names. I mean terrorized for a long time. I stayed silent until now—not even my parents knew the extent of the physical and emotional abuse I suffered. When I shared my story with them, they were shocked and saddened. Why didn’t I come to them? Why didn’t I ask for help? Truthfully? I was paralyzed. Even as a grown man, I find these memories hard to revisit. But I see now that taking the lead means reclaiming who you are and taking back your true self. It’s taking off the blinders and letting go of whatever is holding you back. It’s embracing the moment for what it is and for what it teaches you. It’s putting the past behind you and clearing a new path for the future. I can’t change what happened, but I can change the meaning of it and how I look at it.
Fear is a great motivator. I tell that to my partners on
Dancing with the Stars
all the time. Go on, be scared. Get out of your comfort zone. Align yourself with your fear and use it to propel you to progress. Look your demons in the eye and kick ’em to the curb. For Kellie Pickler, it was learning to get out of her own way. For Ricki Lake, it was finding something she loved in the mirror. For Maria Menounos, it was dancing through the pain of injury to discover an inner strength she never knew she had. For Jennie Garth, it was her first perfect score and knowing nothing could hold her back anymore. For Amber Riley, it was truly believing in her own greatness. Each and every one of these ladies took the lead in their lives. Mirror Ball or no Mirror Ball, in my eyes, they’re all winners.
Looking back on my life up to this point (because believe me, I’ve got a lot of living left to do!), it’s been quite a trip. I’m not the skinny, awkward little boy from Salt Lake City anymore. I’m happy with the man I’ve become, and I owe a great deal to the people who have influenced me and inspired me along the way. These have been my friends, family, coaches, and mentors, the ones who pushed me to push myself. They’ve even been my rivals—the dancers who were so good, they made me want to be better. Every obstacle has been a reason to keep moving forward. Paring this book down to the most important moments in my life was no easy task—I could write ten books, not just one, of everything I’ve experienced! But these are the experiences that resonate with me the most: the ones that have made me stop, take stock, appreciate, and affirm the person I want to be.
I hope in reading my stories you discover or rediscover who you are and learn how to take the lead in your own life. I hope you learn to channel your passion, harness your power, and connect with your joy. Joseph Campbell, the American mythologist, lecturer, and writer, believed you should “follow your bliss.” This is what I do and what I’ve always tried to do. Life is a dance, but it’s much more than mastering the steps. It’s pushing your boundaries, shattering your limits, and exploding in a breathtaking burst of light.
REFLECTING ON DEREK
“Derek Hough is magic. You can see it in the way he dances, the way he speaks, and the way he brings out the very best in others. He is a true leader and I am inspired whenever I am in his presence.”
—TONY ROBBINS
1
Indiana Jones and the Brothers Down the Block
INDIANA JONES AND THE BROTHERS DOWN THE BLOCK
I
AM A FIRM
believer that you are the sum of your parts—which is why my family history is important to me. People are always asking me if my dancing ability comes from nature or nurture. I think it’s both; I’ve killed myself training over the years, and I have the bumps, bruises, and bulging vertebrae to prove it. But I must admit that there is dance DNA pumping through these veins.
My dad was born in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, and his mom, Grandma Coke (her real name is Colleen, but she was nicknamed for her love of hot cocoa), taught dance for her church youth group. My granddad, “Bubble Head Bob Hough,” was a rock and roll deejay—so he would book record hops and spin the tunes kids danced to. My mom’s parents, Don and Romaine, worked as dance teachers in Idaho Falls, Idaho, for a short while.
My parents’ first date took place on a dance floor (the irony of this doesn’t escape me). It was a school winter social at Ricks College at Brigham Young University. Dad had some pretty smooth moves—or at least he thought he did! He joined the ballroom dance team, not because he loved to cha-cha, but basically because he heard there were good-looking girls in the club. That’s where he and Mom met. They were never actually partners, but Dad always had his eye on Marriann, the pretty fraternity “Dream Girl” (a title she won in a pageantlike competition). He kept asking her out and trying to walk her to class, and as many times as she politely said no (she had a boyfriend serving a Latter-Day Saints mission and was doing her best to stay loyal), he always asked again. He finally wore her down with his relentlessness. Her friends didn’t nickname him “Bold Bruce” for nothing!
Things moved pretty quickly from that point on. They dated for four months and were engaged in June. They got married two months later, on August 19, 1976. My mom had my sister Sharee when she was barely twenty—no more than a kid herself. But she could handle it. She was the only girl in a family with three brothers and she prided herself on being tough. Both my mom and dad were raised Mormon, and they brought us up
very
Mormon. We went to church every Sunday and fasted once a month. There was absolutely no swearing allowed in our home. If I let out a cuss, I’d get my mouth washed out with soap. At Christmas, we brought meals to the needy, and before every dinner, we said grace. At night, I would kneel down at my bedside and pray. I’m not sure if I understood what our faith was all about back then—my prayers were mostly things that I had memorized and recited, and I would say the words without knowing their meanings. Nonetheless, my parents insisted that religion be part of our daily lives.
