Zumba-ing to Self-Confidence

At the age of eight I started Street Dance. At twelve, I moved on to Contemporary. At fifteen, I saw a video of myself in a dance rehearsal – and quit.

Self-consciousness sucks.

Maybe it was my age, because who at fifteen doesn’t get caught up in how self-aware they’ve become, and worry about how they look? It’s pretty normal. What I couldn’t believe, was that I’d been dancing for seven years and hadn’t realised how I’d looked the entire time.

I saw myself as clumsy, heavy footed, and inelegant, which aren’t performance traits you want when you’re supposed to be leaping gracefully around the stage. I thought I looked silly next to the other girls who were tall, refined and talented. I was short and self-conscious, so I gave up.

Looking back, the fact that I stopped doing something I loved because of how I thought I looked, really upsets me. I hate that I let something so trivial get in the way of something I enjoyed.

After putting my dancing days behind me, and regretting it, I longed to start again but lacked the confidence I needed to get me there. Then, I started Uni. It was here, after experimenting with a hip-hop class, that I discovered the wonder of… *Latin drum-roll beat please*

… Zumba!

Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘isn’t Zumba for middle-aged women who wear over the top neon sweat bands and power-walk to the shops?’ Well, maybe… But, the people I Zumba with stand out as energetic, confident and happy dancers, and that’s what makes it so great to take part in.

Now, at the age of twenty, I can say that I have been Zumba-ing my way through self-confidence and that, for me, is something to be really proud of.

The anxiety about how I look when I dance leaves my body as soon as my feet start moving. Everyone is with you doing all sorts of lunges and bum wiggling – we all look silly, but that’s half the fun of it. I mean, does anyone ever really look good when they’re sweating buckets of hardcore exercise?

Granted, I sometimes focus too much on getting the moves right and trip over my feet, but I’ve learnt to laugh about it. Another plus? The studio has no mirrors, which means no distractions. There’s no judgey you looking back and mocking you for flailing a bit or stepping in the wrong direction.

It’s all just for fun with the added bonus of a major health kick.

I’ve walked out of the doors almost every Wednesday for the last three years, grinning after an hour of intense cardio; my hair sticking to my face with a tough Cornish breeze to cool me down. I strut home in my gym clothes, sweating with pride to the whole neighbourhood.

Then, a well-earned bag of chips on the way home rarely goes a miss, but hey, I earned it…

Getting back in my dance game is one of my biggest achievements since I started Uni, even if it doesn’t sound like much. It’s an important personal goal that I intend to carry with me through my life until I am a full-blown-and-embarrassing-Zumba-mum.

See that frizzy haired woman sporting neon gym gear, power walking towards the playground? Yup, that’ll be me. (I take the jazzercising Beverly Goldberg as an inspiration, for those of you who have seen Channel 4’s The Goldbergs. Highly recommend.)

I would also encourage all of you to have a little boogie every now and then, even if it’s just jumping around your room to your favourite song – we all do it.

I did, and even with two left feet, I couldn’t be happier.