Lessons from the Dance Floor
I stayed in the very back row, completely out of my comfort zone. The Zumba moves, the pulsing music, the bright clothing. It all felt unfamiliar. I was there with friends, but a self-conscious part of me wanted to hide.
But little by little, I found myself falling in love with it. The challenge of learning the choreography, the new music I never would have chosen on my own, the friendships that started to grow. A playful, joyful part of me kept pulling me back.
Over the years, I followed this joy. When my local studio closed, I found Claudiu Gutu on YouTube, a funny, quirky instructor from Romania who makes everyone feel capable and part of the experience. I’d push the coffee table aside, pull on my Zumba clothes, and blast the music through the TV speakers until my living room became a dance floor.
The Invitation to Step Forward
In 2018, I learned Claudiu was coming to the U.S. on tour. I was ecstatic but underneath, a fearful part worried about dancing in front of a master, afraid I wouldn’t be good enough.
Still, the courageous part won out. I decided to go.
And it was magical.
As soon as he walked in, the room felt charged. He greeted everyone with hugs. When the music started and he took the stage, it felt natural, effortless. He had this ability to look at you and make you feel like he was right there dancing with you.
At one point, he called people on stage. The self-conscious thoughts rushed in. Am I doing the steps right? Do I look silly? I stayed planted on the floor. But I did meet him, hug him, and tell him how much his work meant to me. It was a win, but not a full one.
Stepping Into the Spotlight
In 2019, Claudiu returned to the U.S., this time to Ohio. When he invited people on stage, the fear was quieter. I knew more of Claudiu’s routines from practicing his online videos. I’d already survived one master class. I knew it would be fun, that he was motivational, never judgmental of anyone’s skill level. A braver part of me said yes.
Being on that stage felt like an honor. The song was Se Vuelve Loca by CNCO, one I knew well. I was in sync with Claudiu, with the music, with the room. I felt myself smiling, completely in the moment. At one point he looked over and gave me an encouraging nod. He could tell I knew the routine. It felt like checking something off a bucket list I didn’t know I had.
After learning the lyrics to Se Vuelve Loca, I made a mantra from some of them:
“Bailando Zumba, se vuelve que soy alguien distinto, lleno de valentÃa.”
(Dancing Zumba, it’s as if I’m someone different, full of courage.)
What IFS Teaches Us About Courage
Looking back, I can see how this journey mirrors what I’ve learned through Internal Family Systems.
That self-conscious part who wanted to hide in the back row? She was protecting me. The fearful part who worried I wasn’t good enough to dance in front of a master? Also protecting me. In IFS, we don’t try to silence these parts or push past them. We listen. We thank them for the job they’ve been doing.
That’s what I did, even before I had the language for it. I acknowledged the fear. I didn’t pretend it wasn’t there. But I also didn’t let it make the final decision. I reassured it: we’ve practiced, we know the routines, Claudiu isn’t going to judge us. And then a braver part got to step forward.
That’s what IFS courage looks like. Not the absence of fear, but the willingness to hear it, understand it, and gently say, “I’ve got this. Trust me. We can do this.” Even if your legs are shaking. Even if the self-conscious thoughts are still whispering.
It’s how I got from the back row to the stage.
A Reflection for Your Journey
So I’ll ask you what I asked myself:
- Where in your life are you staying in the back row, watching others dance?
- What’s the smallest step you could take toward the stage?
- If you feel stuck, can you name the part that holds the fear? What is it afraid might happen if you stepped forward?
Courage starts small. Showing up for the first class. Deciding to drive to the event even when a part of you wants to stay home.
For me, the next step is Romania. Dancing with Claudiu in the place where he first started. Just thinking about it brings nerves and excitement in equal measure. But I’ve learned what happens when I keep saying yes.
This post is part of my monthly series exploring the 8 Cs of Internal Family Systems, a framework that shapes how I teach, write, and support healing. The 8 Cs are qualities described by Dr. Richard Schwartz, founder of the Internal Family Systems (IFS) model.
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Right now, I’m really feeling the pull toward more location independence. There’s a coaching program I’m interested in, and a part of me lights up every time I think about it. Another part, though, is hovering in the background waving a tiny caution flag whispering, Are you sure you won’t get overwhelmed? That part means well. It’s trying to protect me from jumping into something before I’m ready, and honestly, I appreciate its enthusiasm for keeping me upright.
So instead of forcing a big leap, I’m choosing a steady step. In March, I have plans to learn more about the program. It feels like a grounded next move, gathering information, easing my nervous parts, and letting myself explore this possibility without pressure.
I don’t know exactly where this path leads yet. But like Zumba, each step counts even when you’re not sure you’re doing the choreo right.
Becoming a provider, polies and procedures, private practice! Zumba! None of it seemed easy at first. Step by step!
What really struck me was the idea that true courage is a self-led quality. It’s not about pushing fear aside, it’s about acknowledging that fearful part, thanking it for trying to protect me, and gently reassuring it. That line — I hear you, I understand you, and we can do this — landed so deeply.
Speaking up and setting boundaries has always been hard for me. But I think I’m going to start using that line with myself whenever I need to say something difficult or hold a limit. It feels like a way to bring compassion and steadiness into moments that normally make me want to shrink back.
You’ve definitely been doing that! Thanks for sharing what the post meant to you and how you can use it.
Solo dancing is an area I’m familiar with. It took no courage for me to dance every dance without selfcontiousness. Then there was dancing with a partner… That took every ounce of courage I could muster. I never learned how to follow a partner in dancing. Once I was lured into dancing the Polka and it reminded me of my grade school gym class where we square danced. It was a blast and since then I wasn’t afraid of dancing with a partner. I’m not sure if I led or the partner led… Nobody ever said!
I remember square dancing in gym class. Always liked that!