Her Campus Logo Her Campus Logo
Life

Dance like no one is watching — even if they are

The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and do not reflect the views of Her Campus.
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at SLU chapter.

I love to dance while I walk. If I am in the right mood and the music hits just right, I almost cannot control it. I get the same feeling when I drink espresso as when I listen to Sabrina Carpenter’s song “Espresso:” a boost of energy that I cannot contain. It starts in my hands as I tap my rings against whatever I am carrying, and then it moves to my feet. 

I will alter my pace from one song to the next so my feet fall right on the beat. If you see me walking in between songs you may witness the moment of awkward pausing, in which I shift from one song to the next, finding my pace. The rhythm moves through my body up to my head, bopping my head to the beat, mouthing the words, smiling. 

The joy of dancing while walking started with my pandemic discovery of strut walking (which I wrote about in another article, should you like to explore the archives). I fell in love with this style of working out after coming across TikToker Allie Bennett, who creates energetic strut workouts. These workouts add elements of dance into short but effective sweat sessions on the treadmill. Once it clicked that I could dance through my workouts, this movement spilled into the rest of my life. 

When you dance, you release feel-good chemicals, endorphins, in your brain. This allows you to reduce anxiety, depression and improve your self-esteem. Dancing also reduces the stress chemical cortisol, improving overall physical well-being. Further, dancing strengthens your physical fitness, including flexibility. So not only does surrendering to the positive feelings built up by the music you hear feel good, but it really is beneficial for your body and brain. 

I began to recognize that connecting to the lyrics, vocals, beat, instruments or some other aspect of a song moves me, literally, so I outwardly express this feeling. My roommate can attest that I do not hold back at night when I am listening to music and getting ready for bed: the music flows through me and I can’t help but dance around. I wondered at first why I had not let this music flow through me more, or why I had only started this practice recently, especially because I get so much joy out of it.

My reconnection to dance occurred when I took a dance class in high school. It was 2021 and my school was fully online, but I needed to take an art class and a PE credit, so I picked dance. Ignoring the awkwardness and strangeness of taking dance classes through a computer, through this class I remembered how much I loved dance classes when I was little. My decision to take dance in high school, beyond just fulfilling requirements, was based on a long personal history with dance. I took ballet classes from roughly age four to fourteen, with a few years of aerial dance sprinkled in there. However, I quit when high school started because there was just not enough time in my schedule. 

Even though taking dance classes through a computer was not ideal, I reconnected with a part of me I had almost forgotten about but that had never gone away. I took dance again my senior year and was overjoyed to dance in a studio with real, 3D people again. Once I started taking dance classes again, dancing moved into my everyday life. I still remember bits of choreography when songs I danced to come through my AirPods. But beyond that, I found myself moving in more musical ways. 

Once I graduated and stopped taking dance classes, the need for movement did not. But college was a whole new arena. I could not just dance around campus. Right? People would stare at me and think I was weird. Wouldn’t they? 

Embracing what makes you unique should not be a source of shame, it should be a source of pride. It is not worth anyone’s time to worry about people who ultimately do not care about them, especially if it causes them to be a less true version of themselves. I have stopped worrying about what strangers think and began thinking more about what connects my friends with me and what unique aspects of them make me proud to be their friend. 

Once I found my place on campus and now that I have stepped confidently into the musical, dancy person I am, I realized that I do not really care. Yes, people stare at me sometimes. But most of the time they ignore me, and if we make eye contact while I’m dance-walking, they smile at me. I smile when I walk by someone playing air guitar or nodding their head. I love seeing someone else connect to music, whatever that looks like. To be fair, I am not exactly jetéing down West Pine, but a little head bopping here and there makes me feel like the music is moving me, and I am happy to let it.

I have had a complicated and varied experience with dance throughout my life. I am grateful for all the good friends, lessons and joy it has brought me. And I am grateful that I can dance for the rest of my life, no matter where I am or who I’m with. I think this idea can apply to many aspects of our lives. If you feel that doing something in your daily life makes you feel like a fuller, happier version of yourself, I encourage you to embrace that, no matter what others think of you. 

Do not be embarrassed to live as you want to, because at the end of the day that is just who you are and you cannot change that much. I know that music moves me and I do not care who knows it or who sees it. It is more freeing to express yourself than to let the part of you that’s worried about what other people think drive you. Dance like no one is watching, even if they are. 

Writer and Senior Editor at Saint Louis University, double majoring in English and History with a minor in American Studies. Chicagoan, Volleyball player, Survivor superfan, baker, and lover of the band First Aid Kit, puzzles and card games.