How do you express yourself?
The quest started with finding — remembering — the self I want to express
On Day 1 of the first Pussy Empowered Dance retreat, a tropical storm kept us from heading to the beach for “class” as planned. We 10 women crowded under a shade hut next to the pool at our Airbnb, rain blowing in sideways.
, our guide and directress, asked us to reflect on our current relationship with expression — among the themes for the week.I flashed back about two years ago, to a hostel kitchen in San Juan.
While cooking up something that I remember involved beet greens, I struck up a conversation with a man perched on a nearby barstool. Like me, Ogugua, producer and edutainment director, was in town for the Afrobeats festival starting that night and I ended up giving him a ride across town to meet up with his friends. In the car we talked about the artists he’d worked with and those he hoped to someday.
Somewhere in the midst of smothering Friday traffic, he suddenly turned and asked me: “How do you express yourself?”
Long pause.
He clarified. “Like, have you found that thing where you can be you, share who you are?”
I came up blank. I knew journalism wasn’t it. In that role, I was more of a messenger — I wasn’t expressing my own ideas with my own voice.
“… dance?” I said, hesitantly. That felt like the closest answer. Throughout my life, I’d relied on dance to help me feel — and embody, express, release — my feelings.
When my teenage-self bubbled over with emotions I didn’t understand, I’d crank up M.I.A’s Kala on my dad’s old stereo and get it all out (Bamboo Banga, anyone?!).
To decompress from stressful days working with my parents on the farm, I’d make the barn loft my stage and let my hips release everything with Daddy Yankee and Shakira.
It’s this magic where the music creates a channel and the movement lets something flow out of me.
As a fresh and lonely transplant in Philly, I took refuge in the circle of light-up roller skates, breakdancing kids and couples capoeira-ing — a beautiful community my favorite DJ in the city helped cultivate.
After receiving an acceptance call for a climate reporting fellowship a couple years ago, I gave myself whiplash celebrating with Bad Bunny’s “Caro” (yo sé cuánto valgo, yo sé que soy caro).
When I dance, I don’t even have to know what I’m expressing; it’s this magic where the music creates a channel and the movement lets something flow out of me.
Driving home alone — and so many times in the years since — Ogugua’s question surfaced in my mind, along with a growing feeling of longing.
How do you express yourself?
He had prodded this internal yearning I didn’t know I had and it became clear to me that e v e r y t h i n g depended on my figuring out the answer to that question.
I started desperately searching for my medium. Poetry? Painting? Maybe I should pick up watercolor again… or dedicate myself to a specific type of dance?
But nothing felt quite right and I felt stuck.
To find myself, I’d have to start dismantling everything that had hindered her expression.
There’s a teaching I especially like in the Bhagavad Gita, a 2,000-year-old Hindu epic poem about finding the path to your soul’s purpose (which I have not read, but thanks to Stephen Cope, I know a smidgen about). In the story, prince Arjuna is having a hard time making decisions. Krishna, an incarnation of the God Vishnu, tells him, ‘Arjuna, you do not know how to act because you do not know who you are.’
Whoa. rtdf
I slowly realized that this quest wasn’t about finding the thing that would allow me to express myself, it was about finding — remembering — the self I wanted to express.
Where was she?
She was stuck in the muck of bullshit beliefs absorbed from her culture since birth; scared from traumas she’d endured without processing (plus the unhealed wounds of her parents, grandparents, etc); distracted by her ego that wanted to do something Important and liked the positive reinforcement that came with following the rules; subdued by centuries of not having the same rights as the other half of the population. (Reminder that in 2023, just thirteen of the United Nation’s 193 member states were led by women. Also, only fourteen countries have had more than one woman head of government.
If you need to pause and let some rage out with Beyonce, by all means.)
To find myself, I’d have to start dismantling everything that had hindered her expression.
In the poolside circle, I shared how writing these pieces feels like finally starting to do it — finally expressing more fully who I am as I continue to dismantle. And how dance has helped lead the way here. It’s where I first felt in touch with my own expression. I shared how I want to deepen that expression, make it even more true to me, and let that feed back into my writing work.
At the end of the week, we would shoot a music video to Alyssa’s latest song (stay tuned!). With the camera watching, I wanted to try to stay grounded in myself, perform for me more than anyone else.
Every day during our classes on the beach, we practiced that. Alyssa led us in warm-ups that brought us deeply in touch with ourselves. Gathered in a circle, we dropped in, feeling the sand beneath us, the sun on our skin, tuning in to the waves and bird calls. We’d then move to self-massage, Alyssa urging us to let ourselves be without thinking so damn much, to tune into our bodies.
Feel how it feels to touch your skin from the perspective of your fingertips…
feel how it feels to be touched by your fingers from the perspective of your skin.
(Highly recommend trying this.)
After a few more guided movements, we’d dance on our own, practice feeling the music and being with ourselves. And then came the part where we had to be brave. One at a time, we stepped into the middle of the circle and danced with all eyes on us.
“When we go to be seen, that’s when shit can really come up,” Alyssa said. Those fears and insecurities about being judged, looking stupid, ugly.
Facing that shit in a safe space, though, can cause some serious growth to happen.
At the beginning of the week, I danced in the circle mostly with my eyes closed. Though I knew people were watching me, actually seeing their eyes felt too vulnerable.
But. These eyes were kind, empathetic, supportive. We clapped and shouted encouragement, showered yessss and mmmhmms of resonance on each dancer. Sometimes we cried, we hid our faces, we broke down. We were also brave, learned to relax, feel safe. We overcame, we felt free.
In the circle, we watched each soul manifest through movement, each so distinctly dancing to the same song. We told each dancer what we saw in their expression.
Snake-like, grounded, goddess
Sensual, spirit, release, connected
Colorful, starfish, ‘I don’t give a fuck!’ energy
Grace, joy, healing
We soaked in each other’s words, learning what others see in us that we may not, letting those impressions land warmly within us.
On the second to last day, I was able to keep my eyes wide open. I challenged myself to slowly move around the circle, looking every woman in the eye and dancing before and for her.
In those moments, I felt the power of being exposed and yet unwavering in myself; strong enough to reflect imagined judgements and soft enough to receive the gifts of lovingly being seen.
ps: I would so love to hear your answer to Ogugua’s question in the comments. xo
“How do I express myself?” Seems like a straightforward question but I have come up with several answers that haven’t really answered it fully. First was I don’t, but I’m Finnish so that’s normal and okay. Second is I try to be the funny guy to make people laugh or lighten the mood like my father did to show my sense of humor. Or by always doing things for other people to show what a kind nice guy I am like my grandfather. I’ve learned recently that those were people pleasing and approval seeking behaviors, for me not my grandfather, that I’m working on by asking myself my motivation and intentions. A long time ago I also expressed myself through dance, mostly reggae, every Sunday night at Club Soda in Kalamazoo, MI. However I’m generally quite shy, self conscious, and introverted so reggae night always required liquid courage, at least 3 beers, to get out there. I haven’t used any artificial courage for quite some time now and also haven’t danced much since. Music has always been very prominent in my life and can definitely spontaneously unlock/unblock emotions in me, but those aren’t outwardly expressed except to myself driving down the road or standing in the shower and a certain lyric or melody plucks a heart string and all the sudden I’m tearing up or outright bawling. Which brings me to the guitar, sorry for the stray but this is Healing Aloud so… thank you for creating the space Katherine. I’ve always wanted to learn to play guitar, proficiently, and write some songs. Never to be shared with anyone mind you. I’ve allowed things to hold me back from this, a music teacher that said “you can’t play guitar left handed”, short fingers making it difficult to get the chord shapes, not willing to practice enough, and the biggest one most likely, Fear and a bit of perfectionist tendencies. So because of this post I have renewed inspiration to pursue this dream again and to summon the courage and vulnerability to just do it and see where it takes me. And not just with the guitar but more importantly with people and relationships, being more “me” and open and true. It’s a very uncomfortable place for me for all kinds of reasons but I think that is where the most growth happens, in the uncomfortableness. Ps: I remember when Katherine first started using the upstairs of our barn to dance, which was no longer just a square dancing & waltzing dance floor after this. I was working in the garden at our farm and all of a sudden heard very lively, and loud, Latin music blasting. I followed my ears to the where it was coming from which led me to the 2nd floor of our barn and Katherine “getting after it” in her bare feet really expressing herself. It was awesome to see. Craig R (Katherine’s dad)
This reflection on the retreat and how it played a part on your path of self expression was such a gift to receive 💘. Thank you for gifting us the experience of your expression embodied and now the insight into your journey. A layer cake of liberation and reclamation that’s so inspiring to witness! 💞💞💞 can’t wait to dance together again ✨✨✨