My upbringing consisted of my single mother, younger sister, and myself and it was filled daily with a lot of emotional and financial stressors. We weren’t communicative and I often felt alone and misunderstood—like I didn’t belong. But, every so often on a Saturday night, my mom would put on music and the three of us would dance on the back porch. These nights were my favorite memories from growing up.

My mom dimmed the lights and blasted the music and we took turns cutting loose. I let the sound fill me and then my body took over—finding different shapes and steps to match the music. I loved watching my mom and sister dance. My sister had amazing rhythm and could always find the best isolated moves. My mom made us squeal in laughter and delight to see her so happy and expressive. In that safe space, no dance move was off limits and we each had permission to express ourselves anyway we wanted–full support, no judgment. Those nights nourished me. We could be silly, sexy, vulnerable, crazy, funny, goofy, creative, imaginative, wild, and free. I felt seen. I felt loved. And I finally felt like I belonged.

Our bodies knew something our minds didn’t. Our bodies knew how to be together without conflict. Our bodies knew how to communicate our true feelings. Our bodies found the deep joy that was lying just under the surface—buried under the daily stress that made up our lives. As we danced, I felt the truth of our connection and love for each other. The dance moves told me so. Our bodies told me so. A conversation took place between all of us that words couldn’t express. On our back porch we lived the truth of who we really were as a family—loving, self-expressed, and supportive.

Those Saturday nights were a gift. They shaped me into who I am today. I became a professional dancer and choreographer, and now I use dance for healing. Dance was, and still is, my language and my therapy. When I drop in a listen to my body, I’m not alone. My body is the house of my soul—the container for my higher self. What better way than dance to express the essence of who I am?

The most beautiful way to be seen and understood and loved is often through the body. Making love can be the most physically intimate thing we can do, but to me, dance is a close second. Not because of the quality of the movement—but because dance allows us to be seen, understood, and loved. Even if you dance by yourself and for yourself—you can see, understand, and love yourself in a new way.

So, when things become stressful in life or in relationships—try turning up some good music and let the power of dance take over. May it remind you of the love and freedom that exists inside all of us, waiting be let out and expressed—just like it was for my mother and sister and I in those days and weeks between the Saturday nights when we would dance.