About Me · About You · About the Problem · About the ApproachAbout MeHow I found my way out
I was at a dance party. A guy I'd once dated (the one who "really liked me" and "totally wanted to stay friends") was there too, dancing his way through the room with someone new every few songs. I kept catching him at the edge of my vision. Had he seen me yet? Had he noticed I'd seen him? I stopped glancing anywhere for too long, just in case. And the longer I avoided his hypothetical gaze, the more I stood alone in a room full of people. I was one song away from leaving.
Instead, I turned my back to the group, closed my eyes, and danced, just for myself. I followed the impulse instead of the audience. Arm wants to move? Let it move. Hair wants to whip? Let it whip. After a few deliberate seconds of forcing it, my body took over completely. One movement rolled into the next until my feet barely touched the ground.
My head went quiet. All I could hear was my own breath, and the music. Before I really noticed it happening, my mouth curled into a smile. Then I could hear my friends again, cheering, laughing. I turned around and saw the whole group dancing, wild and enraptured. A friend spotted me, laughed, and made space for me in the circle.
The moment I stopped overthinking and started moving, stopped scanning the room and started following what my body actually wanted, everything changed. I could hear my friends again. And they could let me back in.
That night taught me something I now build my whole practice around: overthinking, overanalysing, endlessly running the scenarios in your head… None of it gets you free. It just locks you in tighter. But your body, followed instead of managed, opens the door straight back to other people. Playfulness isn't a detour from real connection. It's the fastest way there.
“Playfulness isn’t a detour from real connection. It’s the fastest way there.”
That same thread of losing yourself to stay safe before finding your way back through the body instead of the mind, is one I recognise everywhere, not just on that dance floor.
And I see I’m not alone. The same quiet disappearing act, losing yourself until you can’t feel it anymore, is what I see, again and again, in the men I work with. I once sat at the edge of a men's circle expecting some insight into what actually drives men. Instead, I listened to an hour of men talking about the women in their lives; how they see them, how they want to be seen by them. That's the exact pattern I now help break. I give men a place to look at themselves without the female gaze as a middleman. This isn't dating coaching. You're so much more than the dates you're hoping to land or the relationships you're chasing. As long as you're fixated on that outcome, you lose sight of yourself. And without that, you never reach the kind of deep, warm connection you actually want.
You get to work on yourself, for yourself.
Everything else, safe, free, loving relationships, with yourself and with others, follows from there.