Dance as My Lifeline: How Movement Helped Me Overcome Trauma, Loss & Grief

A personal story of healing and resilience through the transformative power of dance.

This article was originally published in Top Santé magazine. It’s one of the most vulnerable stories I’ve written—and one of the most important. If you’ve experienced loss, grief, or trauma, may it remind you that healing doesn’t have to happen in silence. Sometimes, it happens in motion.

The Call to Dance

I was on the floor, crumpled in a pile of despair. Racking sobs coursed through my body. Though it was hard to breathe, loud wails escaped me. Grateful at that moment that no one was around, I allowed myself to feel it all.

Slowly, I picked myself up, turned on my speaker, and pressed play on my “dance to” playlist. I started swaying—no plan, no choreography, just letting the music move me.

(It helped that my brain fog was intense, and I couldn’t form thoughts anyway. It also helped that I had spent two decades practicing this form of improvisational, free-form movement as a way to heal from the rigid perfectionism of the professional ballet world.)

Dancing Through Grief

The more I moved, the more I became one with the music… with my body… with my grief. What had paralyzed me moments ago was now flowing through me.

Yes, I cried while I danced. But I didn’t stop.
I kept moving—gently, wildly, angrily, tenderly. However my body needed to.

Losing Ruby

Just 48 hours earlier, I had received the terrible news: my beloved coaching client Ruby had died suddenly at 52.

In the 14 months we worked together, I had witnessed her radiant unfolding. She was awakening to her power, her purpose, and her self-worth. Through our work, she had learned to “like—no, love—herself,” as she once said.

She had also become one of my dearest friends, a daily presence in my life here in Yucatán, Mexico. Her loss gutted me. I was comatose with grief.

So I danced.

Dance as Survival

I danced to save myself.
I danced to drag myself out of the frozen, inconsolable state.
I danced to remember: I will survive this.

Trauma, Dance, and the Artist’s Life

My life has not been a fairytale—except on stage, like when I performed Princess Aurora in The Sleeping Beauty.

Offstage, my story includes:

• Sexual abuse by my dance mentor

• Body shaming by countless teachers

• Divorce and financial devastation

• The sudden deaths of several close friends and loved ones

Ruby was not the first.

But I am courageous. And I knew I was made of magic and light and creativity and love. I refused to be defined by what happened to me.

So I faced my pain. I danced through the grief. I let movement help me find meaning again.

“Hard times require furious dancing.” — Alice Walker

The Power of Movement Healing

Even when I hated the body I saw in the mirror…
Even when anxiety hijacked my thoughts…
I danced.

I danced to express, release, and regulate. I danced to find catharsis.
I danced to remember my strength.

As Francis Weller writes in The Wild Edge of Sorrow:

“When grief remains unexpressed... we become fixed in place, unable to move and dance with the flow of life. Grief is part of the dance.”

I am more a verb than a noun.
I will keep growing, evolving, and dancing through the pain.

The Science Agrees

Modern research is confirming what I’ve always known:

• A study by Australian researchers (shared in The Independent) found that dancing may be more effective than antidepressants in treating depression.

• PsychCentral reports that dance improves mood, enhances self-esteem, and aids trauma recovery.

You don’t have to be a trained dancer to experience the benefits.
Just put on music and move. Or work with a dance coach (hi!) for guidance and support.

Dance Is My Medicine

Dance is my friend.
My therapist.
My ritual.
My saving grace.

It’s carried me through my darkest nights.
It keeps my heart buoyant amidst both beauty and pain.

I will dance in remembrance of Ruby and all whom I have lost.
And I will let my life—my whole life—be the dance.

Ready to bring the healing power of dance into your life?

💬 Let’s talk. I offer a free 30-minute call to explore what kind of movement, coaching, or somatic support might be most meaningful for you.
There’s no pressure—just a warm, open conversation to meet you where you are.

👉 Book your free call here and let’s see what’s possible together.

Read the original print version in Top Santé magazine [PDF download]