I've Heard Countless Times: "I'd Love to Dance, But..."
- Megg Shepard

- Aug 14
- 4 min read

Over the past 15 years, I’ve lost track of how many times I've heard someone say, "I'd love to dance, but..." and then follow it with a reason rooted in self-doubt. "I’m too big." "I’m too clumsy." "I’m too old." "I don’t like my hips or my belly." It feels like I’ve heard every excuse in the book, and while they sound like different reasons, they all come from the same place: a fear of not being good enough.
It's a fear that stops us from experiencing the joy of movement. The truth is, that hesitation to dance is a universal experience, something we've all been taught as we've gotten older. We see other people dancing and think they were born with a natural grace or confidence that we lack, when in reality, they've just given themselves permission to move past those fears.
My journey is dedicated to helping you see that you already have a dancer inside you, waiting to be rediscovered. It's about giving yourself that permission to move and celebrating your body for what it can do.
The REAL truth is, deep down, we are ALL dancers.
Have you ever watched a baby move? Their first little wiggles and bounces are a dance of pure joy. It's the most beautiful thing to witness. I see it all the time when I teach in public spaces. The kids run forward with glee and start dancing their hearts out, while the adults hang back, hesitant. The children don’t care how they look; they’re just in their bodies, completely lost in the moment. That unrestrained movement is a powerful reminder that dancing is our natural state. It's a spontaneous and effortless expression of life itself. We are born with this innate ability, a rhythm in our bones and a joy in our hearts that wants to move.
So, at what point do we lose that inner dancer?

I believe we're all born with it, but we lose it somewhere along the way. As we grow up, we're constantly bombarded with messages from media and society telling us how we should look and act. Suddenly, looking awkward or silly becomes the worst thing in the world, especially when we hit those awkward teenage years. Maybe we were made fun of in school, or even by our own friends and family, when we tried something new and our movements weren't "perfect." In those moments, that natural spark starts to dim. We lose that drive to just shake around and have fun, and we begin to care too much about how silly we might look.
But it doesn't have to stay that way.
I absolutely love watching the unrestrained, liberated dance of children. And I've seen some adults who have truly mastered this, too. I truly believe we can all get back to that place. It's about consciously choosing to step out of our minds and into our bodies. We can give ourselves permission to move however we feel, without judgment. It doesn’t have to be beautiful; it certainly doesn't have to be perfect. The only thing that matters is how amazing it feels.
For me, my entire outlook on my body began to turn around
when I reconnected with dance—specifically, belly dance.
For so long, I was trapped in a cycle of toxic dieting and shame, constantly hating my body for not being what I thought it "should" be. But as I started to dance, something shifted. I began to appreciate my body for what it could do, not just how it looked. I learned to love how it could move, sway, and find its own rhythm to any music or even the natural sounds around me.
Belly dance gave me a reason to dress up again, just like I loved to do as a child, and adorn myself with all the beautiful baubles I’ve collected over the years. It was a form of self-expression and celebration. It also pushed me out of my introverted shell in the most magical way. I went from dancing by myself to connecting with others in a supportive community. Dancing with a group forced my brain to work in a completely new way, collaborating with others and listening to the music in a deep, intentional way. It felt like a fun, challenging game, and I was amazed at what my body was capable of.
Dance was an absolute game-changer
for me when it came to loving myself.
Now, my entire dance practice is so much more than just movement; it's about loving my body exactly as it is, giving my emotions space to be expressed, and gracefully moving through stressful situations with compassion and love. It’s a sacred time to check in with myself, to listen to what my body needs, and to find the rhythm of my own truth. The dance floor is my sanctuary, a place where I can leave the burdens of the world at the door and just be.

Most people see the highlight reel I show on my personal page or my business pages, like Bonsai Dance Flow and Wildflower Wisdom. And while that's a part of my story I'm comfortable sharing, some people know that I am the caregiver for my husband, who lives with the debilitating disease of multiple sclerosis. This practice is so deeply important to me because it is incredibly difficult to be a caregiver and see someone you love in so much pain all the time. Dance has been my lifeline. It has allowed me to move my emotions out and process them in a healthy way instead of staying stuck and spiraling into depression or anxiety about the future. It gives me a powerful outlet to release the stress and find my own strength.
I am so incredibly grateful that I gave myself a chance to dance, and I feel so privileged to be able to spread this joy to others. It's truly magical to see the healing take place as they often find release, self-love, and appreciation for their bodies through this beautiful form of expression. My hope is that everyone can reclaim that inner dancer they were born with.
Now I would love to hear from you.
What has your experience with dance been?

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