Dancing is Wonderful, Painful, and Powerful: My Dance Journey

One of the professional dancers I interviewed for my research study shared a love-hate relationship with the dance training they received. They described that the training was "fantastic" and "awful" simultaneously. While they love being on stage, expressing themself, and connecting with fellow dancers and the audience, navigating the pressure and meeting high demands is a significant layer of their life.

My experience is on a much smaller scale, but my drive to what I do now is coming from my own paradoxical relationship with dance. Here is my story:

My parents saw me dancing anytime, anywhere even when being in a diaper. Whenever they heard music regardless it was a song from a TV, store music, or a local festival, they found me dancing no matter where it was. As you can imagine, they put me in a dance class at a small local studio.

In the early stages, everything was fun. Dancing was fun. Learning new things was fun. Hanging out with dance friends was fun. Sometimes I was tired and may be less motivated, but once in the studio, I just enjoyed myself.

Dance is my most comfortable and safe way to express myself to this day. Verbal language is great, yet I feel something inside that is not describable in words. I can process it through movement, intuitively understand it, and feel complete when dancing.

As I started developing self-awareness and exploring self-perception in adolescence, dance became even more significant in my life. As many adolescents may go through it, I had a rough time where I struggled to understand and regulate myself. My intuition told me that something was changing, different, and not right, yet I was unable to comprehend the experience verbally. Through dancing, I had small eureka moments giving me a sense that "I got it". I was still unable to explain it in words, but I felt certain that I processed something and I was okay. I was able to collect and organize myself through dancing despite ongoing adolescence chaos.

While my early relationship with dance was very personal and private, I got to realize how I was exposing myself to the audience's eyes, choreographers' intentions, appraisal and criticism from teachers and peers as I continued my dance journey. This was terrifying. I started noticing internal conflicts, numbness, heaviness, and all kinds of awkwardness. I felt very confused and lost. I stopped performing for a while because I did not know what to do and how to process my experience.

This experience led me to pursue the study of dance/movement therapy, exploration of therapeutic dance where a dancer's intention can be more on the internal process. I was eager to gain tools to explain what was going on in me. I believed that dance has something good within and I wanted to know what that is. The study of dance/movement therapy was lovely. I felt ecstatic that textbooks described my experience and added more colors and clarity to it. I was able to process and explore my relationship with dance more comprehensively as I gained more vocabularies and knowledge.

I was happy working as a dance/movement therapist or mental health counselor, utilizing somatic awareness and movement as therapeutic tools. I felt like incorporating the greatness of dance regularly in my practice. At the same time, I continued to have questions: What about performance? Dance/movement therapy helped me explore therapeutic elements of dance, but I did not feel like I knew enough about performance elements of dance. Can therapeutic and performance dances coexist in one body? Research suggests that dancers have a high risk of psychological distress such as eating disorders, PTSD, depression, and anxiety. How come dance can be healing and aggravating at the same time? To answer this question, I studied sport and performance psychology.

My question manifested a research study on professional dancers' embodiment experiences. The results indicated that therapeutic and performance dances can coexist in one body, yet it requires ongoing mindful effort to navigate the delicate balance. This was so encouraging to me because my personal, academic, and professional backgrounds can support dancers' and performing artists' fulfilling, healthy careers!

Like many dance/movement therapists and somatic psychology practitioners, I see body and movement as the native language and primitive resource we all have. As we grow to fulfill certain social roles and internalize cultural norms, we may forget to access and utilize such a resource in an effective way. A performing artist's body and movement especially are not only their artistic instrument but also their own selves. This merged experience of their body and movement can be blessing and confusing.

I, as a professional counselor and mental performance consultant, am passionate about exploring and navigating a dancer's complex experience of their body and movement with them. A dancer's body could have been objectified and described as "replaceable", but a dancer is not an object. I respect a dancer as a person and unique individual and believe that a sense of wholeness as a person can foster their career. I aim to support dancers to trust in themselves and utilize their strengths and resources for their wellbeing. If you are interested in or curious about such exploration, please contact me. I would be overjoyed if I could be a part of your journey!