Connection Over Perfection: What Dancing Taught Me About Relationships

If you’ve followed my journey at all, you know dance has been one of my greatest teachers, long before I ever realized it.

But this lesson… the one about connection over perfection… this one has shaped every part of how I show up in relationships.

THE UNEXPECTED TEACHER -WHAT DANCING TAUGHT ME

If there is one thing dance has taught me, over and over again, it’s that perfection is wildly overrated.

And if you’ve known me for more than five minutes, you know that I didn’t always believe that. I grew up in environments where perfection was survival, stillness felt unsafe, and connection felt confusing. My nervous system learned early that the people who were supposed to protect me were also capable of causing the most harm.

When that becomes your foundation, your entire world tilts.

Up feels like down.

Love feels like danger.

And relationships become a maze of guessing, pleasing, fixing, and bracing.

But somehow, alongside all of this, there was dance.

And without realizing it, dance was quietly teaching me the very thing I had no model for: connection.

Real, embodied, grounded connection.

And of all the styles, it was West Coast Swing, this beautiful, stretchy, intuitive, emotionally rich dance, that helped me begin rewriting what connection could feel like.

Today, I want to share the lesson that has changed my relationships more than anything else:

Connection matters more than perfection.

On the dance floor, and in love.

MY OLD PROGRAMMING — WHY I CHOSE WHAT I CHOSE

I haven’t always chosen wisely when it came to relationships.

Not because I didn’t care.

Not because I wasn’t trying.

But because my body, not my mind, was choosing for me.

Our nervous systems recreate what they know, even when what they know isn’t healthy.

I grew up without a stable foundation of safety. What was supposed to feel safe often felt threatening. What was supposed to feel nurturing often felt unpredictable. So my instincts became distorted. My body learned to find familiarity in chaos and danger, instead of in kindness and calm.

So, of course, I found myself drawn to partners who replicated those patterns, because my system recognized them.

That didn’t mean they were good for me.

But trauma doesn’t choose what’s good.

It chooses what’s familiar.

And living in that cycle felt like screaming inside while trying to appear fine on the outside.

THE ANCHOR I DIDN’T KNOW I HAD — WEST COAST SWING

But during all of those years, something else was happening, something I never connected until much later.

West Coast Swing was saving me.

Not in the dramatic, movie-like way.But in the quiet way, the way where your body finds just enough steadiness to keep going.

I was learning:

• how to feel someone’s intention

• how to match energy without losing myself

• how to listen through my body

• how to hold presence without forcing

• how to respond instead of react

  
  

West Coast Swing became my first language of connection.

When the emotional pain was so intense that I wanted to jump out of my own body, dance kept me in it.

When life felt unpredictable, the partnership structure felt grounding.

When everything inside me felt loud and chaotic, the music gave me rhythm.

But there was still a missing piece.

Dance connected me.

But it didn’t regulate me.

And without regulation, connection can only take you so far.

THE SHIFT — LEARNING TO CALM MY NERVOUS SYSTEM

Everything changed when I discovered breathwork.

Breathwork became the tool I didn’t know I needed, the one that finally helped me feel safe in connection, not just present in it.

In just a few seconds, breathwork could:

• soften anxiety

• slow the spiraling

• calm the fight-or-flight

• remind my body what safety feels like

• create space for new choices

• open the door to healing

  
  

It was breathwork that taught my nervous system how to settle, something it never learned in childhood.

It was breathwork that helped me start rewiring old pathways and creating new ones.

And these new pathways led me toward wiser choices… healthier relationships… and eventually the best love I’ve ever known.

THE RELATIONSHIP I NEVER KNEW WAS POSSIBLE

Meeting my third husband, yes, it took three tries, was one of the most healing surprises of my life.

But healing doesn’t mean “easy,” and I always want to be honest about that.

Even now, I’m learning what a healthy relationship looks like.

I’m learning:

• to let his kindness in instead of resisting it

• not to fight him just because my system expects conflict

• not to control everything just because control used to equal safety

• not to brace for hurt that isn’t coming

• not to confuse calm with danger

• not to run from the very thing my heart has always wanted

  
  

This is the kind of healing that dance taught me to look for, a connection that feels steady, not chaotic.

Leadership that feels supportive, not dominating.

Partnership that feels like co-creation, not survival.

And every time we dance together, even after surgeries, injuries, or life interruptions, I’m reminded of how far this lesson has brought me.

THE DANCE FLOOR AS A MIRROR — THE REAL LESSON

Here’s what West Coast Swing mirrors back to us about relationships:

1. Connection > Perfection

The magic is never in the perfect steps.

It’s in the shared moment.

2. Presence is more important than performance

Your partner doesn’t need you to be flawless.

They need you to be attuned.

3. You can’t fake a grounded nervous system

Tension, fear, shutdown, they all show up in your frame, your timing, your breath.

4. Partnership thrives when each person stays self-connected

Losing yourself in the dance is not the goal.

Bringing your full self into it is.

5. Healing begins with awareness, not criticism

Every misstep, on or off the floor, is feedback, not failure.

A SPIRITUAL MOMENT — THE GIFT OF GRACE

I truly believe God placed dance in my life long before I understood why.

I believe He knew I needed a language that bypassed the chaos of my trauma and spoke directly to my soul.

Movement became my prayer.

Connection became my teacher.

Breath became my anchor.

And grace became the bridge between the girl I once was and the woman I am becoming.

Healing is not linear.

But it is possible.

And sometimes, the most unexpected things become our lifelines.

WHAT I HOPE YOU TAKE FROM THIS

If there is one thing I hope you carry with you after reading this, it’s this:

You don’t have to be perfect to be worthy of connection.

Not in dance.

Not in love.

Not in your healing journey.

You just have to be willing to stay present, one breath at a time.

CALL TO ACTION — JOIN ME ON THE DANCE FLOOR

If this blog resonates with you…if you are craving connection, healing, embodiment, or community…I would love to have you join me in Utah County.

My classes weave together dance, breathwork, somatic healing, and meaningful connection.

We meet weekly, monthly, and in special series designed to support your body, your nervous system, and your relationships.

You can explore everything at: www.DanceToUplift.com

Come dance, breathe, reconnect, and heal, one intentional step at a time.

becomes possible to rewrite the story that once felt impossible to escape.

Live in Love, Move with Meaning, Play Passionately,

Shalay