When a Reel Becomes a Mirror
For the longest time, I had tucked away a part of myself that once felt most alive — dancing. Somewhere between corporate deadlines, MBA rigor, and “being practical,” dance slipped out of my daily rhythm. Not because I stopped loving it, but because I convinced myself I didn’t have the time, or worse, that no one was waiting to watch.
Then, one ordinary day, I decided to post again. Not a performance, not a polished studio video — just me, reclaiming joy through movement. What followed wasn’t just a return to dancing; it was a return to myself.
Over time, I kept sharing — snippets, experiments, moments where the choreography wasn’t perfect but the energy was real. Slowly, a rhythm re-entered my life. And by the end of the year, I put together a reel called “What kept me going through 2023.” It was a compilation of all those little dance clips I had been brave enough to put out.
That reel changed something
Not because it “went viral” (it didn’t) — but because of what it gave back to me. A friend from school — someone I hadn’t spoken to in years — commented: “I love this journey for you and you inspire me.” That one line felt like a mirror.
Because the truth was, I hadn’t started dancing again to inspire. I had started to heal, to reconnect, to breathe differently. But in sharing that messy, imperfect journey online, I ended up doing more than documenting my joy — I unknowingly gave someone else permission to rediscover theirs.
And isn’t that the beauty of creating in public?
You think you’re putting out a video, but what you’re really doing is sending out a signal. A signal that says: it’s okay to start again, it’s okay to stumble, it’s okay to choose joy over perfection.
For me, dance wasn’t just content
It became proof that consistency can be self-care, and that sometimes, showing up for yourself is enough to spark someone else’s courage too.
Today, I don’t measure my dance posts by likes or reach anymore. I measure them by the quiet confidence they’ve rebuilt in me — and by the invisible threads they’ve reconnected across time, friendships, and even parts of myself I thought I had lost.
Because sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is press “post.”
