The courage to be disliked changed my dancing more than 10 years of training
What happens when the fear of being seen stops being about the stage and starts showing up everywhere.
I was texting someone important the other day.
Or trying to...
Really I was staring at a blinking cursor in a blank box.
What do I even say??
I’d already put off replying for a whole day and I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer.
I wrote out a few sentences and read them back.
Well this doesn’t sound like me at all...
That’s when it hit me.
I’m performing. In a text message. To someone I actually wanted to talk to.
I didn’t have anything to say because I was too busy trying to sound likable and eloquent. Remove the filter and I actually had plenty — stories I wanted to share, questions about her work, a time to meet up. But the performing got there first.
That’s the part that scared me. Performing had gotten so embedded in how I live that I couldn’t even feel it happening anymore. All I felt was tired. All the time. And like nothing I did was ever quite enough.
That one text message was such a small thing yet it took so much of my time and energy.
So I started wondering: What bigger things were doing the same?
Your fear of rejection isn’t a personality flaw
This is where being seen comes in.
You don’t notice how much you perform, because you’ve been doing it every day for years. It’s just how you live.
But get on a stage and it hits you in the face.
Nerves shoot through your body. You feel the urge to be perfect. You start wondering how you look instead of how you feel.
I see this in my students constantly — the ones who choreograph every single count, rehearse until they’re injured, all in the name of being flawless the moment someone’s watching. Nothing wrong with preparation. But when the prep is armor against being seen, that’s a different thing entirely.
Being seen triggers the fear of rejection. That’s not a personality flaw, it’s a survival instinct, and it runs subconscious. Your nervous system reads being evaluated as being in danger, and it responds the same way it would to any threat: fight, flight, or perform your way out of it.
You can’t override that wiring. But you can change the loop that turns it into a performance.
The difference between presenting freedom and feeling it
I spent the better half of my career building a reputation as someone who teaches embodiment and presence.
Which meant every time I danced, that reputation hovered over me. I couldn’t let loose in my own classes. I was probably more in my head than my students were.
Even alone, the pressure followed — just in the form of my own inner critic instead.
I got so focused on appearing embodied and present that I forgot the entire point was to feel it.
There was a performance I did for my birthday where I decided to strip everything away and focus on a feeling. I didn’t plan any tricks. I didn’t choreograph. I didn’t even pick my own song. My friends were going to be there and I wanted to show them something special to me: what freedom feels like in dance.
So I tried so hard to show them freedom.
And it backfired.
I became disembodied instead. 12 years of experience walked out the door and I was wobbling around like a beginner all over again.
It took me months to see why: I was trying to present freedom without ever actually feeling it.
The green room ritual that never actually worked
I used to think being seen was just about getting comfortable with visibility.
But it’s really about getting comfortable with yourself.
I spent a decade trying to embody every movement prompt to stay in the thread and out of my head. I’d breathe in the green room trying to regulate my nervous system. I’d remind myself to focus on the music over and over again as I walked on stage.
But as soon as I felt the pressure of the spotlight, I’d forget it all. I’d get swept up by a wave of adrenaline and the only thing I could focus on was how to not mess up.
No tool or piece of advice can save you in that moment.
10 years of performing doesn’t change that.
The only thing that has ever worked, without fail, is the courage to be disliked.
This isn’t a nervous regulation hack.
This isn’t a tool.
This is an identity shift.
Because when you become the person who isn’t afraid of being rejected, you break the mental loop. You can show up as yourself under any amount of pressure, because there’s no version of yourself left to protect.
When the carefulness leaves — the need for every detail to land exactly as planned — you’re left with space. And in that space you can actually hear your own thoughts again.
You can send that text without needing to sound witty or eloquent.
You can be careless, chaotic, and calm—because now you are free.
Not just in your movement, but in your self.
And that’s what I want to help you do.
If you’re ready to make that identity shift, come join us in the Movement & Mindset Membership.



I love this as performance acts as our standard operating system. I feel that writing here initially but something has kicked in that just doesn’t care.,
I can tell my perfection limits my freedom