Have you ever felt yourself shrink in a crowded room? Maybe you pull at your sleeves, try to disappear, or hope no one notices you…
I know that feeling well. My heart would race, my shoulders would hunch, and I’d do anything to take up less space. For a long time, I believed no one could see my insecurities.
There was a time when I danced under neon lights, high on music and adrenaline. In my 20s, I worked as a go-go dancer in busy nightclubs. On the outside, I looked confident. Inside, I was searching for validation, never feeling “enough.” Behind the sequins, I carried self-doubt. Even when I could command a stage, I felt invisible off it. I told myself I was “lucky” to dance, but deep down, I worried my worth was tied to how I looked, not how I felt. No matter what I achieved—in work, friendships, even on stage—it was exhausting to constantly feel like I wasn’t enough.
But slowly, things began to shift. Through movement, through conscious dance, and by choosing to come back to my body again and again, I started to see the lie for what it was:
“I’m not enough” is a thought. Not a truth.
What I’ve learned over time, both through personal experience and somatic coaching, is that the body doesn’t lie. It communicates in ways words often can’t:
- Collapsed chest
- Tense shoulders
- Avoiding eye contact
- Holding your breath
These are more than habits. They are stored responses—your body trying to keep you safe, often based on old patterns and unprocessed emotion. But here’s the good news: the body is also where reconnection begins. Not by forcing confidence or pretending to be someone you’re not, but by softening, listening, and letting movement bring you home to yourself.
Dancing Alone: My Oldest Escape
Since childhood, I’ve always found comfort in dancing alone in my room. It was my way to escape, to process, to be myself—long before I ever stepped onto a stage. Back then, it was intuitive ritual that helped me feel free. Only recently have I started to give this private dance more structure and intention, letting it become a conscious practice for presence and self-connection.
Movement as Self-Connection (Not a Cure-All)
I’m not a healer or a therapist. I simply use dance to get closer to myself, my body, and the present moment. Movement isn’t about fixing myself or chasing some perfect version of confidence. It’s about meeting myself honestly, just as I am. And here’s something I remind myself often: A fish will never fly through the sky like a bird. But it can be the freest fish in the ocean.
I stopped trying to become something I’m not. I started choosing depth over performance. Presence over perfection. I truly believe that dance and movement—when guided from the heart—is one of the most healing tools for building self-trust and confidence that can’t be faked or erased.
Try This Mirror Breathing & Movement Practice
If you’re curious to reconnect with yourself through movement, here’s a gentle practice you can try at home (watch it here):
Stand in front of a mirror.
Place one hand on your chest and the other on your belly.
Close your eyes and take a few deep, slow breaths — in through your nose, out through your mouth. Let each exhale be a little longer than the inhale.
After about eight breaths, gently open your eyes. Look at yourself — really look.
Then softly say: “I am beautiful. Just as I am — I am enough.”
And then… allow yourself to move.
Circle your shoulders, your head, your hips.
Run your hands over your face, your neck, your scalp. Not to fix anything — just to remind yourself:
You are here.
This body is yours.
And you are whole — exactly as you are.
This may seem simple, but it’s a powerful shift. Speaking to yourself with kindness, while moving and breathing, can begin to dissolve patterns of self-criticism and reconnect you with your worth.
Final Thoughts
You don’t need to become someone else to be confident. You don’t need to perform to be loved. You just need to come back to the truth of your body, one breath and one movement at a time.
If this resonates with you, you’re warmly welcome to join one of my online classes or future workshops in Ljubljana. There’s no pressure to be perfect—just an invitation to show up, as you are.
Because that’s already enough.
With love,
Leia
